Poppycock!
by Snipermander
Summary: Inspired by the tragic Opium Wars of China, this is the tale of the fall of the Goblin Kingdom under the addiction of a strange plant, their ensuing blood war with the Sun-Creatures for control of it, and the unbreakable bond of a dark family...
1. Mission Impossible

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Creeping down to a non-particular farmer's residence one night, the Goblin King was leading a team of about 16 well-armored guards and 20 other brawny Goblins in what was nothing more then a common nightly excursion. The Goblin pack was out tonight to find something they could steal from the local Sun People, such as a cow or a couple of goats, and bring back to their underground empire; the Goblins have had not any good pickings of food or drink for about a month now (Fall was approaching, so the weather was getting colder and food was becoming scarcer.); when some of his citizens started to complain about the shortage of food, the Goblin King (he was born as "Boggrat") tried to hold back anyone leaving their underground world for the surface, for he feared there would be loss of life should the weather turn deadly freezing (as it has suddenly done so in the past); he also didn't want to risk the overall energy to try foraging for food that was not around, or risk being hunted down by an angry mob of torch-wielding Miners and Farmers, whom the Goblins have no-doubt stolen from in the past.

But it was only at the request… er rather, the **demand**… of the King's dear wife, the Goblin Queen (so named "Hipposowlea"), that he lead a troop out to look for food, not just for the sake of the common Goblins or even herself, but her decision was based more-so on the wants of their spoiled son, Prince "Froglip". If the Prince wanted goat, he got goat. If the Prince wanted cow, he got cow. If the Prince even wanted to dine instead on some very unfortunate Sun-Man or Sun-Boy, he always got just what he wanted.

But never mind his rotten son; if it was one thing even the Goblin King would never even try to contest to, it was his wife. The Goblin Queen never took "no" for an answer from anyone (including Froglip), so when _she_ was the one to make the complaint to the High Goblin Court, that was it. The King and his men were going out.

And so there he was, the Goblin King was crouching in a deep, muddy ditch that was meant to carry cow manure and other unwanted materials out down the mountain and into the ocean, trying his best to keep hidden his great crown, which was a 2-ton rounded cut of stone that sat upon his very head; his slightly scrawny yet immensely powerful body stood the test of the cold weather thanks to the thick blue cloak of badger fur he wore over himself, and the long-legged pants he wore tied at the waist and made from stitched deer hide. Like all the other Goblins (save his wife), the King wore no shoes; instead his large, single-toed feet were kept from completely sinking in the mud thanks to their thick soles and wide, sharp claws keeping grips with the more solid ground. In his left hand, the Goblin King held his royal scepter, which merely consisted of a long pole of pinewood topped with a jaggedly cut slab of stone tied down to the pole's top with a rope of woven ox hair.

The King kept his pale yellow eyes peeled for any Sun-Man who might be working in the barn just a few yards away from where he was hiding; the King pricked his large, pink, bat-like ears up to gather any noise of footsteps. He would not be hearing any from his Goblin men, for they had already received their orders to stay back in the bushes near the open valley until the coast was clear. The King took a moment in his observations to lift his free hand up to his long, hound-like face and wipe away watery mucus hat had riveted down from his puffy pink nose.

After a few more minutes of scouting, and seeing that there were no Sun-People around the farmyard, the King began to emit a sharp _grunting_ noise: it was so low that no Sun-Creature's ear could ever pick it up, only the acute hearing of a Goblin's ear. This was just one of a multitude of different sounds that Goblins developed have over the past hundred years in their strive to allude the Sun-Creatures' detection, as well as aiding them in other ways.

Hearing the calls of their ruler, all the King's men came sprouted out of the bushes and scurried into the deep ditch alongside him, all 36 of them. The ditch was now crowded with the thick skinned bodies of the Goblins, not one of them making a sound, but squirming around each other trying to get a good view of their target location. Next to the King, one of his top Guardsmen came to his side, took a moment to count out the heads of everyone there, and then looked to the King and made a soft _snort_.

Everyone was accounted for. They were ready to make the raid.

The Goblin King nodded and turned his gaze back to the farmer's straw-roof house, making a long grunt followed by a short one, meaning to his Subordinates: _I will go first, then the rest of you follow me._

And so the King stashed his scepter on his back into a tight sash that was tied across his torso, and he gripped the firm ground at the lip of the ditch, lifting himself out and proceeding to crawl through the long grass upon his hands and knees, his pointed ears pinned to the sides to make himself sleeker and less noticeable, though this was a difficult to do with a 2-ton boulder wheel sitting upon his head. But amazingly, the King managed it all like a pro, making it all the way to the side of the barn, passed the straw-roof house where the farmer and his wife slept. Since they were so close to the Sun-Family's house, the Goblin King didn't make any indicative grunts or snorts to let his followers know to come; instead, he held up his large hand and with a flick of his bony, clawed fingers, they came to him, one small group at a time.

When all 36 were at the side of the small barn house, the King looked to his top Guardsman and motioned for him to enter the barn first. With a nod, the younger male Goblin turned the corner and crouched at the base of the large barn doors; digging at the center with his long sharp claws, the Guardsman was luckily able to pry the two doors apart with relatively little noise, thanks to the doors being old and made of cheap wood from some market somewhere. The doors were left ajar enough for one good-sized Goblin at a time to fit through without causing too much ruckus; the Guardsman entered the dark barn first, then stuck his head out the cracked doors to let the King and the others know it was safe. The Goblin King first had to take off his enormous, heavy stone wheel crown and roll that inside before he himself could enter; then one by one the rest of the King's men slipped through the two cracked barn doors, and they were all met with a grand sight: good pickings could be found within this farmer's property that they had chosen tonight. One big fat cow, a coop full of hens, and a sow that was tied to a supporting pole of the barn's interior, and all the animals were fast asleep. There was also a table in the corner near the haystacks that supported what looked like a large sack of possibly corn.

Now that they were all in, the Goblin King turned to his minions, who were all wearing looks of cheery accomplishment on their chiseled rocky faces, while eyeing all those tasty animals around them. Placing his great stone wheel crown back upon his hairless head, the Goblin King (with his top Guardsman to his right) took a direct stance of authority right in front of the rest and raised his staff to gain their attention. When all the Goblins looked respectfully to their leader, their demon-like eyes glowing in the dark like stars, the Goblin King pointed a bony index finger to the first and second row of fifteen Goblins, then pointed right to the sleeping cow, indicating for them to take the cow. Next, the King pointed to just the third row of seven Goblins and then pointed over to the sow that was tied to the pole; they were to take care of that. Then, the King pointed to the last row of Goblins, then at the chicken coup, then he held up three fingers, indicating for them to take only four chickens. When the King was done and saw that all his minions knew what each of their tasks were, he dispersed them with the outward flick of both his hands.

The King stood upon an overturned barrel top, observing as immediately, the different groups of Goblins silently set off to do their jobs: the first two groups taking care of the cow surrounded the great beast, placing a cloth around its eyes and then tying a cloth around its muzzle to keep it from mooing; one of the more vigilant Goblins, noticing that the cow had on a bell, took the thick neck strap into his mouth and bit down with his thick, tusk-like teeth, and breaking off the bell; together, these Goblins finally took the cow by the face-cloth and led it outside. Over to the opposite side of the barn, the next group of Goblins were taking great care of stealing the pig: pigs were notorious for squealing loudly when something did not seem right to them, so the Goblins took care of also tying a strip of cloth around its snout to prevent it from making any noise; then one of the Goblins took the thick rope the pig was tied with into his mouth and biting it in two, and all together leading the still sleeping sow out the barn doors to join the Goblins who had the cow. And lastly, the Goblins taking the chickens took them one at a time, with one Goblin prying open the coup doors with her long claws, and the other each taking a chicken and bringing them outside alongside the Goblins with the sow and those with the cow.

Seeing that everyone had done their tasks and did them very well, the Goblin King smiled with satisfaction and jumped down from his little makeshift soapbox to join them outside when he caught the whiff of something. Although his nose was puffy and stuffy as it usually was in his old age, the Goblin King still had a surprisingly good sense of smell, and turned to the shadowy corner of the barn near the hay where the old wooden table was. The King scurried over to the table (out of the corner of his eye motioning for his Guardsman to go outside with the others and hold them there), climbed up the side and on top of it; he cocked his head like a puppy dog in inquiry at the large sack of whatever that sat there; it gave off a scent that the King had never smelt before, certainly not like that of something common, like corn; the Goblin King lowered his head, ears back, and pressed his nose to the sack, giving it a few good sniffs.

_Sniff, sniff, sniff… sniff, sniff, sniff… sniff?_

The King glanced over to the barn doors, then back to the sack: somehow, the smell of the mysterious contents had cleared up his sinuses!

Now, the Goblin King was neither the oldest of Goblins, nor the youngest, and his little bouts with his own nose were, although frequent, generally sporadic and came and went with the seasons as a general rule. But for his stuffiness to clear up just now after he just sniffed the sack of whatever was in there was just too sudden to be a coincidence. Now the Goblin King was really interested in this sack, but seeing as the sack was tied good and tight with a thin rope, and he had a large group of minions waiting patiently outside the barn with all those animals, the King decided to do his investigate on his own time; he took up the big sack, slung it over his shoulder and casually jumped down the table, exiting out the cracked doors of the dark barn.

Outside, the King got the attention of his followers with his staff raised, and ordered them to move out with a strong flick of it. Quickly but carefully, the Goblins all worked together to carry the animals down and out the deep ditch and then led them through the wide, open valley, which was flooded with a thick, spooky fog as it always did during the dark night. With his nose no longer bothering him [for now], the Goblin King's gait was much quicker as he traveled through the long grass and thick fog, guiding his followers through the difficult trail with his long grunts.

Indeed, the King was feeling good, especially considering all the nice fat animals he'll be bringing home underground to his wife and son. Surely the incredible success and rewards of this mission will please the Queen! It was the Goblin King's highest hopes that he can now finally get back into good spirits with his mate, and that after a long month or so of cold denial, the Queen would allow him to copulate with her.

_Oh, how this old Goblin King wishes for the eternal pleasure that is your love, my dear… _the Goblin King thought wistfully to himself. _I know for the sake of all Goblins our Son must come first, but after him, it is always you, my sweet rose thorn. You're the only toad for my pond, and just as a toad thirsts for a pond, I thirst for you! Be still, this King's stone heart, and may Erlking open yours when I return to you!_

With his body now tickled with desire to fornicate, the Goblin King had to exercise some control over himself in order to not go rushing off into the night for the nearest entrance cave and leave his minions behind. He instead continued to lead his troop of faithful Goblins with his Sun-Person-inaudible grunting calls.

After getting about thirty or so yards away from the Sun-Man's now-empty-farm, some of the Goblins felt it fine to relax a little. There arose a small conversation between two familiar Goblins, who were leading on the stolen cow:

"'Ay, Glump." Spoke the goblin to the left of the cow's head, who was short and scrawny with light-brown skin, greasy black hair and a greasy black goatee.

"Mghmm?" Indicated the other Goblin to the right, who was much bigger and brawnier with orange skin and light brown hair.

"Are you tired?" The first Goblin's scratchy little voice asked.

"Mm-no. I don't think so, Muk. 'M actually havin' some bit of fun here, heh!" Glump's fuller, friendlier-sounding voice answered with a cackle.

"'Aving a bit of fun, are ya'? _Aww, too bad._ 'Cause if you _were_ tired, I'd 'ave tah' leave ya' behind, and let the damned Sun-Creatures 'ave at ya', wouldn't I?"

"Ohhh…" Glump muttered nervously as he held a finger to his mouth, the expression upon his thick, dog-like face a mix of slight fear and stupidity.

Just then, the Goblin named "Muk" with the dark 5 o'clock shadow and the long face of a grumpy goat, took no pity in hustling along the stolen cow, who was beginning to tire:

"Lazy Sun-Beast! Get on with ya'! Get on!"

When the cow (still blinded by the cloth tied around its face) ignored him, Muk gave it a nice slap on the hindquarters with his big, wide hand. With a silent jolt, the cow improved its pace, and when their fellow Goblins took up the sides and rear of the cow again, Muk continued his nasty chastising of his friend, Glump:

"…And it would be a _shame_ if you had to get left behind and hold us back, 'cause you know how **grumpy** the Prince Froglip gets when his dinner is late!"

Glump nodded vigorously so that the stone beads that had tufts of his hair strewn through them drummed on his broad chest.

"And you know what the Prince Froglip **does** to people who make him hungry _and_ grumpy, eh?"

Glump took a moment to think of all the terrible things he and Muk have witnessed the young Prince Of The Goblins do unto those many who were so unfortunate enough to be caught in his wrath.

"…Eh, ahmgh… he-he _stamps on your feet?_ A-and… _bites your ears?_ And _claws ya'?"_ Glump answered nervously, his big ears drooping to his sides.

Muk chuckled at his friend's fright and said, "Ya', ya', and ya'. And if it's really not your day, the Prince Froglip would just _eat you!"_

Glump uttered a little noise that sounded like the whine of a hound dog, but after bringing himself back together, he said, "Well gee, I don't think Prince Froglip would want to eat _me_! 'Cause, um… ma' skins' too thick. See?" Glump took out a pinch of his great stomach blubber to show Muk that it was indeed quite thick, like the hide of a hippo.

Muk took short observation of this with raised thin ears, but waved his friend off, saying, "Ah well, 'e probably would not want ta' eat me either. I mean, look at me! I'm too _skinny_ for his liking, surly."

"But we don't have ta' worry 'bout such a thing, Muk: we got him a cow, a nice fat one too! This and all those other nice Sun-Critters are bound to keep the Prince Froglip's belly full for at least a month!"

Muk nodded with a wide smile.

Glump then turned to the cow right beside him and began to pet the large animal on its head in a rather nice gesture that was uncommon for a Goblin.

"Don't worry, Mrs. Cow: your going to make our Prince very happy indeed…"

But suddenly, just as Glump lowered his large hand to his side and returned his attention back to their King leading the way further up front, the cloth that was tied over the cow's eye slipped off…

_MMMMMMMMMMMOOOOOOOOOOOOO!_

As soon as the poor cow's eyes came to rest upon the twisted, ugly forms of the awful, bat-eared demons who held her prisoner, the cow flew right into a panic! With an upward thrust of her head and a kick of her back hooves, she sent Muk and three other Goblins flying through the air; turning herself into a tailspin, still mooing like crazy at the scary sight of about 15 monsters with glowing eyes and clawed hands rushing right at her to try and contain her, the cow bucked Glump out of the way and made a break through the mesh of smelly bodies. In the sudden mayhem, the sow woke up and was also thrown into a great scare by the faces of the terrifying Goblins that held her prisoner; she was lucky enough to wiggle free of her captors and, squealing madly, dashed around in a big circle until finally disappearing into the fog. And in both the pig's escape and in a desperate attempt to recapture the mad cow, the rest of the Goblins and the Goblin King himself all dropped whatever they were holding, whether it be a royal staff, a chicken, or a sack of Whatever, to do so, all erupting in loud panicky grunts, growls, and howls.

But it was all in vein. The cow got away, the sow got away, and all but one measly hen got away. All that work and careful planning and exceptional teamwork, and it all slipped right out of their claws with the slip of a scarf.

The Goblin King just stood there, absolutely dumbfounded. He watched with utter disarray as every one of his minions were all scrambling around in the foggy valley, grunting loudly to each other as they fruitlessly searched for the runaway animals. At last, the King decided a loss was a loss, and he emitted a series of long stern grunts to let his Subordinates know that they were to return to him right this moment. But things were about to get worse for them:

"_Look! Goblins! I see them!"_

Just as everyone within his small group retuned obediently to him, the Goblin King's normally droopy, hairless ears suddenly shot right up (as far as the great slab of stone on his head would allow, anyways) and his pale-yellow eyes grew wide with terror at what he had just heard:

"Ohh… eh-eh, it-_its Sun-People!"_ His deep, stuttering voice spoke into the night.

There suddenly appeared the shadowy forms of what must have been at least ten Sun-Men trumping through the grassy valley, some held glowing torches in their hands, others had pitchforks, daggers, and mallets. The air was suddenly filled with the fretting voices and shifty movements of the Sun-Creatures, holding their lights out in front of themselves in a desperate attempt to try and see through the thick fog; the more meaning Sun-Men waved around their chosen weapons in front of themselves instead, hoping to at least stun anything that had the slightest potential of bringing them harm. Cowardly Sun-People.

The Goblins all huddled together, forming a protective circle around their King, who was now beginning to shiver: not from the bitter night air, but from fear; his top Guardsman was at his side and, looking over to his Royal highness with a look on his face that was just as worrisome as his Ruler's, he asked plainly,

"What now, my Lord?"

The Goblin King took a breath to calm himself so that he could think clearly; looking over his shoulder, he noticed a very large collection of trees, shrub and rocks about a mile long and 30 yards away; within that vegetation, the King remembered, was a series of large, deep sand holes that had been previously dig there when his wife, The Goblin Queen, some other Goblin females, and their little Pets took to foraging for bugs and small mammals in the safety of the concealing trees and rock cliffs. The area was a rather treacherous hike trail for any Sun-Person to take, but it was a walk in the park for any Goblin to get through!

The King gathered the attention of his minions with a raise of his royal staff, pointed a long, curved red claw to the thickets of plants, and issued a command:

"Everyone follow me."

As soon as he made it through the mesh of thick, muscular bodies circling him, the Goblin King booked it. He took off down the valley as fast as his squat skinny legs could carry him, which was shockingly fast, despite carrying a heavy sack over his shoulder and a great stone slab of a crown upon his head (proving the sheer strength and agility of a Goblin, even a old one). The King need not check behind him to know that everyone was doing as they were told, their single-toed feet patting the ground and their bodies cutting through the grasses until they eventually made it to the thickets, dodging around trees and jumping over bushes.

Just as the King had guessed, there were the holes, about six of them, all leading back to the great mountain and deep down to their underground civilization. Sliding to a stop at the widest hole (which he could only guess had been made by his large wife), the King of the Goblins hurried his minions down the holes, one by one, but they could all hear the sounds of the Sun-People coming their way.

At last, when the Goblin King saw that everyone had made it into the safety of the holes, he looked over his shoulder towards the direction of the Sun-Men, and around at the rest of his surroundings, and then back at the hole he stood in front of. The King prepared to leap right inside… but then he hesitated with a nervous little groan. He had good reason to.

"Dear Erlking as my witness… she's going to kill me…" Boggrat spoke to himself in a hushed tone. "My dear wife and Queen if going to _kill_ me for this…"

After a great moment of panic on what to do, the Goblin King finally consented to the idea that being mauled to death by the love of his life would be better and perhaps more honorable then being slain by those cowardly Sun-People.

And so, with a heavy conscious and the heavy Sack of Mystery still upon his back, the King of the Goblins dove back into his life of darkness.


	2. Sorry, We Fowled Up

Darkness blanketed the Goblin King with cold comfort as he made his way through the tunnel leading through the clumpy, sandy ground of the forest, including working his way around the occasional jungle of tree roots; it eventually led to more solid ground and finally to a road of rock and stone; Boggrat's scrawny yet muscular, rat-like body came to great adaptation as he scurried through the maze-like tunnel until it widened enough so that he could walk upright with his royal staff up; about thirty minutes later, the darkness began to lift and a warm, inviting light shone through from the other exit of the tunnel to the great underground.

The Goblin King had taken this tunnel before, but in this particular instance, it seemed to take him longer to make it to his kingdom even with his short legs scampering along underneath him; had he not had a whole group of faithful followers waiting for him on the other side, the Ruler would not be in any rush to come home, especially not with the fiasco tonight that's unfolded right under his big red nose.

Finally, after another good 15 minutes of scurry, the King crossed over the threshold of tunnel entrance and into the wide open underground of torch-lit, flat-grounded area that was "The Great Hall" of the Goblin Kingdom. The first thing to hit the King after the warm light from the many torches held around him was the very numerous grunts, growls, and grumbles of the innumerable Goblin citizens which held them. Amongst the jutting forms of the stalactites and stalagmites of the Hall, there were the Goblins, of every shape, size, age, and color you could imagine, all clamoring to get a look at the front of the Great Hall where the large, brilliant Stage was.

As he slowly and carefully made his way through the crowds, his great flat boulder crown clunking some in their heads, King Boggrat could easily make out the three large thrones which were set towards the back of the well-lit Stage area, allowing for all to see the intricate constellation design carved into the floor as well as the tall, carved Goblin head statue against the backdrop behind the three large stone thrones. From where he was, it seemed as though something was going on in the middle of the Great Hall floor at the very base of the Stage, so the King continued to get closer until he was met with a rather terrifying sight.

Breaking through the thick hoards of smelly, dirty, growling Goblins, the King found his small group of followers trapped in the middle of all this; surrounded by the wide but tight circle of other Goblins, they all (including the King's top Guardsman) looked absolutely frightened. It was then that the Goblin King lifted his head up to see past the rim of his boulder crown, and saw right away just who they were so frightened of:

Circling around the frightened group like a wild lion with eyes of fire, was the King's own one and only son, Prince Froglip.

Decked out in a long, flowing regal cape that was midnight black on the outside and a hot pink on the inside, and kept tied together around his neck by an ominous skull-shaped bone pin, Prince Froglip was a lanky-but muscular bodied Goblin with unusually brilliant green skin and piercing golden-yellow eyes which almost seemed to bulge out of his sunken-in, dark-circled eye sockets; Froglip stood upon two very tall, frog-like legs which tapered down over bony ankles to two well-structured, thick-soled feet with large sharp toe claws; his other extremities were his long, muscular arms, ending in two large white-palmed hands and eight long, bony fingers fitted with eight curved talons. Perhaps one of the more noticeable features of Froglip was his screaming pink hair: two thick, wing-like sections of it which sprouted from just behind his large pointed bat-like ears, and a third section, _a tall proud_ _mohawk_, which grew out from the top and back of Froglip's round head and flowing slightly behind his head like a mullet. The Goblin Prince had the face of a dog, the bulbous upturned nose of a pig, and the slobbery green lips of a frog, which is where his loving parents derived his infamous name upon his birth.

The King watched with growing concern as his son continued to circle around the shivering group of Goblins like a hungry predator, rasping his long fingers and eagle-like claws at them as if he was just begging to tear into one or all of them. Prince Froglip's already hideous face was contorted in anger as he pulled back his moist lips to emit a long growl, revealing an oral disaster of rotting, jagged teeth and tarry purple gums.

One of the Goblins in the group, the King's top-ranked Guardsman, was the only one brave enough to speak, though still very much afraid himself:

"P-p-please, our Great Young Prince and Future King! H-h-have mercy on us! This-s-s Sun-Man's cow must have been the craftiest of the Sun-Beasts! For she slipped away from us when no other cow has been able to! But we did manage to b-bring you back this hen, and…"

But the merciless Goblin Prince was hearing none of it. Froglip's green lips separated and springing out from between them was a shockingly long, sticky tongue unlike anything any other Goblin possessed; jerking his head up, Froglip showed his great discontent with the Guardsman's answer with a sharp blow of his tongue between his lips:

"_Pppppptttttt!"_

As funny as this may have looked (and sounded) to a Sun-Person, it was nothing to dare laugh at by Goblin standards; Goblins were creatures keen to the feelings of those around them by just the sounds they made, hence the reasoning for their naturally very large and highly sensitive ears.

Again, the Guardsman tried his best to appease the Prince as Froglip as he and the other Goblins continued to be circled by him:

"If-if you just take a small peek, why, this hen is quite plump!"

Again, Froglip was not moved; he blew his long tongue out between his slobbery lips.

"_Pppppptttttt!"_

The scrawny tan-colored Goblin with the goatee named Muk was almost like a completely different Goblin when under the glaring yellow eye of Prince Froglip: no longer the boastful, trouble-making creature from earlier that night, Muk was now trying his absolute best to hide himself within the broad chest and behind the thick gorilla arms of his friend, Glump, who on the other hand remained true to his own nature and was none the wiser, but still very much fearful of the Mohawk Prince.

Again, the shaking Guardsman tried again:

"… And she is young, and free of parasites as we have so checked!"

And again, Froglip would not accept this:

"_Pppppptttttt!"_

The Guardsman tried one more time:

"… And, ah, she m-m-might even have some eggs inside her?"

But to no avail:

"_Pppppptttttt!"_

At this point the Guardsman solemnly gave up; he seemed to come to a sense that perhaps death would be better for him then to stand another minute of this torture.

All the hundreds of thousands of murmuring Goblins within the Great Hall watched as the crowned Heir to their underground empire circled the group of cowering Goblins once more before coming to a stop at the foot of the Constellation Stage. The entire Hall fell silent when Prince Froglip lowered his arms to take grasp of the rims of his flowing black cape, and spoke:

"Outrageouspptt… **simply outrageousspppttt!" **

At the sudden exclamation of his sentence, Froglip threw out the sides of his long cape and gave the ground underneath him a good, loud stomp! The resulting noise gave every other Goblin in the area (including the Goblin King himself!) a good scare jolt, and the sound waves echoed throughout the deep dark reaches of the underground world.

Now the Prince Froglip was a Goblin born with a terrible lisp: whenever he spoke, his incredible frog-like tongue seemed to get in the way, particularly when he tried to pronounce "s" sounds and "t" sounds in words. So when he began to berate the small party of King's men for their failure to get him exactly what he wanted, he also provided them a nice shower of his spit to wash out their wounds with.

"I ppptttssent you outpt to get me a cow! _And you bring me back a chicken?!_ I don't believe thissspppttt! What are you, Goblinssspppttt or dogssspppttt?!"

When no one from the now moistened group of Goblins would answer him, Froglip only grew even more irate:

"_Ppptttsssooooo_, no one will ans(ssspppttt)er me, huh? Then I will ans(spt)wer for you: you _are_ all dogssspppttt! You all des(spt)erve to be ppptttssserving those ins(ssspppttt)iped ppptttssSun-People! Why, you're all justsspptt assspppttt ppptttsssoft-bodied assspppttt they are! And you know whatpptt I do to dogssspppttt? _I eat pppttthem!"_

And with a great, loud _snort_ that rang out into the big ears of the audience, Froglip suddenly threw himself crazily into the tight group of Goblins like a rabid tiger, taking a hold of the King's top Guardsman around his thick wide neck and shaking him around like a ragdoll while the rest of the members of the hunting group bolted, all disappearing in separate directions into the rest of the massive audience of jeering and roaring Goblins. When the point of view of the King had cleared, he could see his son Froglip was clearly the stronger one in the struggle, bringing down the Guardsman (who must have weighed nearly three times as much as the Prince did) and proceeding to asphyxiate him with his large bare hands. It wasn't until the King's son began to _stomp_ on the back of the other Goblin's feet that King Boggrat could bare no more.

"_S-son! Stop it! Stop it this instant!"_ His deep, grumbly voice cried as he stepped forward out of the crowd with his royal staff raised high into the air.

It took a few moments, but at the sound of their master's order, every Goblin's large ear pricked up, their direction turned right to him, and the entire Hall fell silent, save for the desperate gasping of the Guardsman, who was allowed to breath, but still had his neck in the grasp of Prince Froglip. Gazing around meekly from underneath the great wheel boulder upon his head at all the glowing pale eyes staring back at him, the King slowly lowered his jagged-rock-tied-to-long-stick scepter and nervously lifted a bony finger to slid away mucus from under his big pink nose (the prior runniness seemed to be returning). The Goblin King then looked to his son: Froglip stood there like a statue, with one hand still grasping his prisoner and the other just hanging at his side. The young Prince had on a look upon his green doggish face that was a mix of shock, anger and bafflement. Perhaps it was the relative rarity of any form of correction or reprimand on his Father's part in Froglip's life that caused the Prince to be so surprised by his Father's sudden order.

Now of course the old King, who is by no means as despotic as the young Prince or the Queen, never meant for it to sound like he was being verbally berating towards his son; he only raised his voice and his scepter to merely gain his attention over the loud noises and the crowd, as well as save the useful life of his best Guard. But unfortunately for him, Froglip proceeded to take his father's order completely the wrong way anyways.

"But ppptttFather! Were you notpt listening? Thesepptt foolsspptt brought me a chicken when I ask(pppttt)ed _specifically_ for a cow! And you were the one who ins(sspptt)is(sspptt)ted to lead pptthem! _So how dare you ppttell me off!"_

The Goblin King tried his best to coax his son into a better understanding of the situation, but it was a difficult job when he had a son who was so much more temperamental and strong-willed then he was:

"(*Cough, wheeze! *) Y-yeah, I did, I heard the whole thing, and my ears were up! And I understand you're upset, my son, but (*Sniffle, sniff!*), but you must understand that we did indeed manage to steal a cow for you, but the Sun-Beast had slipped her blindfold and ran from us, and… _ah, AH_… eh… a-and when we tried to recapture her, we lost the other extra animals we also had with us (save for this one hen). Don't t-tell me that you'd rather us had returned with _nothing at all_, son? If you have anyone t-to blame for thi… (*Cough, cough! Sniff!*)… it is I, my son. I did choose to lead this group out foraging, and I wasn't paying enough attention, so it's my fault that your cow was lost, son. So please, let my best soldier go, and you can berate me all you want, ah… ah… AH… CHOO!"

The resulting sneeze from the King's frail, skinny body was surprisingly forceful, enough to push back some of the Goblin crowds, though Froglip remained right where he was. The Goblin King could feel himself becoming weaker and weaker with each passing minute (because he had been out all that night with his group in searching all around the land for something to scavenge or steal, and dodging Sun-Creatures while they were at it, the lack of sleep was beginning to take its toll on the old Goblin's sensitive immune system.)

When the echoing of the King's sneeze dissipated, Boggrat looked up at Froglip (he was quite a bit shorter then his son); Froglip had a look on his face like he was about to explode; his face was turning from green to red with burning rage, his large strong hands were clasped tightly into fists which shook at his sides, and his large ears were pinned back like an angry cat's.

While the hordes of Commoner Goblins all around him began to back away and flee for their lives, the Goblin King could only stand there and prepare for the worst, with only his staff and large stone wheel crown to protect his scrawny old body from any flying fists and kicks that could very well erupt from his unstable-tempered son.

But to the King's and everyone else's surprise, Froglip let out a loud cry and buried his face in his hands, his long cape falling around him; for a moment the Prince stood there upon the steps of the Stage, crying his eyes out, sputtering and spitting, and wailing very loudly as though someone's was torturing him. Finally, the climax to the scene came when Prince Froglip suddenly threw himself right down in the middle of the Royal Stage and proceeded to have a tantrum: he kicked his powerful legs and pounded his large fists violently into the cold stone underneath him, all the while crying and screaming his head off to the point where many of the Goblins watching his meltdown had to cover their ears.

The Goblin King only winced, however, when Froglip began to put his sentences back together and loudly cried out:

"_Wwwwwwhhhaaaaaaaa! Wwwwwwhhhaaaaaaaa! __**MMMMOOOOTHAAAAHHH!"**_

The Goblin King clenched his staff close to his bare chest, his eyes widening and his long pink ears drooping, all out of fear of the inevitable: since his Father was not giving him exactly want he wanted, the young adult Prince was now crying out for his Mother for an appeal…

Then the inevitable answer to her son's cries roared from beyond the rock walls of the Great Hall:

**"****And why does my dear son cry my name?"**


	3. Big Momma's House

Glowing eyes of pale sickly green and rotten-egg white looked to a corner of the Great Stage, beyond where the Prince was having his meltdown; the Goblin Court and their King stuttered their scared little grumbles when they caught sight of a great looming shadow cast across the thick underground walls, and the sound of stone cracking and scratching against the hard flat rocky ground sent out echoes into the great underground cavern. As the shadow came closer to the left entrance of the Stage behind the decorative Goblin deity head, the shadow's mouth opened up to reveal a frighening silhouette of jagged teeth that matched the shadows of the stalactites and stalagmites. And out from the mouth the being spoke again,

"_Sooooo, fool… you finally decided to come back home to your poor Wife and Son…_"

This time around, the feminine voice was softer but all the more cold like the air of the cave; it seemed to whip every Goblin's sensitive ears, particularly those of the King.

When Prince Froglip stopped his screaming and carrying on long enough to hear the passed words and look up to see a large figure appearing out from behind the unlit back area of the Stage, his great ears suddenly perked up, eyebrows raised and a big grin came upon his slimy green face.

"Mothah!" He chirped like a little child; Froglip sat up in an Indian-style sitting position with his hands folded neatly in his lap and doing his best to act like a good boy.

Indeed, the creature that finally appeared from behind the Stage floor was the Mother Goblin: the Goblin Queen.

Her Majesty was a creature of both hideousness and beauty, of grizzly bear-viciousness and vixen-sexuality, but that depended completely on whom set eyes upon her form. The pitifully obtuse surface-dwellers could only find it in their writing hands to describe her as this great beast with the head and tusk-like teeth of a killer hippopotamus, the obese body and thin muscular legs of a sow, and the claws and burning eyes of a lioness (ironically, it was the anthology the Queen's birth name, "Hipposowlea"). But in the surprisingly advanced society of her own kind, the Goblin Queen was all those characteristics but in a much more positive light; the Goblin Females would often tell each other through grape vines and green eyes how they wished they had her well-fed body with buxomly breasts, and that great thick mane of pink hair which sprouted from the back of her scalp just like her son's. And on the flip side, the Goblin Males only wished like living hell that they could have her as their wife, and for her with her plump, healthy body to bare them plump, healthy children.

As the rest of the Goblins slowly backed away from the Stage, the Goblin King was suddenly left out in the open, completely under the terrible gaze of his dearly beloved, whom walked right past their puppy-eyed son Froglip as she gazed around at all the Goblin heads giving their bows in respect. Under the much better lighting of the large torch stone towers on either side of the Stage, the Queen wore a tight and very revealing blouse that wrapped around her form but barely containing her great bosoms; it was constructed together with soft rabbit fur that was artificially colored a deep green while the rims were left pink; under the flower petal dress flaps, one could easily catch sight of the Goblin Queen's bloomers, rabbit fur and colored a screaming bright pink which seemed to indicate a sort of nonchalance in the Goblin Queen's potential of gaining the temptation of male Goblins (and with this, the Queen over a short period of time invented her own little game of Spot-the-Gawkers and beating the living shit out of them; later, she would playfully fib to her worried husband and Commoners that she merely did it because those unlucky males were staring at her breasts.) Coming to a stop at the edge of the Stage where Froglip once was, it was now possible for all to see that, unlike any other Goblin alive or dead that the Queen was doing something which only the retched Sun-People were ever thought to do: the Queen was wearing shoes. Stone clogs to be exact, carved in and out by only the best Goblin Craftsmen that her status of Hierarchy could find. Very few Goblins knew why in earth the Queen chose to conceal her feet within stone shoes, but those who did dare not speak the truth, lest they suffer having the Queen implement swift punishment with a stone clog up their behinds.

The Goblin King felt himself give a shiver of fright when his wife's eyes met his, like a tiger spotting a mouse, and the Queen didn't hesitate for a moment to verbally pounce upon him.

"Dear, dear! I sent you and those other half-wits out to fetch our son dinner; you have all been gone for quite some time, but I see you have come back with empty claws! Why is that so, _you idiot?!"_

Trying his best not to let his voice squeak, the King spoke,

"…M-my dear… I was just telling our s-s-son, that the cow… simply slipped her scarf and-and…"

"… And it got away." The Queen finished for him, her face growing even more into that of a grumpy old toad. "That may be the first stupid mistake you made tonight, but how do you explain losing all the other animals?! Huh?!"

"…Ummm…" The Goblin King struggled to find his words, especially since he also had to constantly rub his runny nose and clear his throat, which was now becoming sore. "… M-my dear, please forgive us-s-s! We, ah… AH! … Sorry, w-we were overtaken by the Sun-People when they heard the c-cow making a racket. And also, while most of us were trying to re-recapture the cow, we lost the other animals… well, except for this one hen…"

"**And how is a hen supposed to feed us all, you fool?!"**

The Goblin Queen suddenly exploded, throwing her arms in the air and rasping her glistening pink bear claws! Her very large ears shot back against her head to look like the horns of The Devil, and her snarl revealed her fearsome, jagged mouth-tusks. The Goblin King cowered instantly underneath his great stone wheel crown and behind his long staff, while every other Goblin in the Great Hall took a giant leap back from the Stage.

Prince Froglip, none-the-wiser of the situation and slightly put off that his mother had overlooked him earlier, gave a loud snort, stood up, and pranced like a doe over to her, rubbing his round head into her shoulder like a cat wanting attention. Almost immediately, the Queen's attitude and even her personality completely changed as she turned and wrapped her slightly flabby arms around her son, giving him a good squeeze as she planted a big wet kiss right on his forehead with her full pink lips. The Queen spoke softly and calmly to her son,

"What is it, my sweet little demon child? What can I do for my hideous little boy? _Mmmmmm?"_

"Mothah, I'm _hungry_." Froglip said with a little pout, his own skinny but muscular arms holding onto his mother's thick neck.

"I know, my perfect little boil, I know." The Queen cooed to him, rocking Froglip back and forth in her arms. "And I know you wanted a nice fat cow tonight, too; but instead, how about you have this small chicken tonight, and I will take my best female hunters up to the surface with me and fetch you a whole bunch of cows and anything else you want for tomorrow? How is that, son? _Will you do that for your loving mummy?"_

The Goblin Queen held her grown son very close and gave him a big ol' pleading look that all spoiling parents give to their children. Froglip thought it over as a big smile stretched out on his slimy green lips.

"Welllll… Okay! Very well, Mothah', I'm doing ittpp' only for you."

"There's my good little boy!" The Queen cheered as she swung Froglip's spindly body in the air, planted another big wet kiss on his head, and set him back down. "You never fail to please your mummy! Now, go find that chicken, tear its head off, and take it up to your room while I take care of your Father."

And Froglip did just that: jumping down from the Stage and bringing himself into a creeping posture with his back hunched, head low, and arms folded close to his chest like a velociraptor, he stiffed the air with the big, bulbous nose at the end of his doggish muzzle until he caught a scent. With a great snort, the Prince suddenly darted out into a large group of terrified common Goblins, who immediately scattered away, all sounding off submissive groans and howls; when the bodies had cleared, the entire Goblin Kingdom watched with both the odd awe and shocking amusement that only Goblins could get out of seeing their crowned Prince seizing a helpless hen in his claws and proceeding to _bite its head off_ just as his mother had instructed; after popping the decapitated head into his mouth and chewing it up amongst excited whooping from the crowds, Prince Froglip (with a big smile on his face at all the attention he was getting), took hold of the chicken's now lifeless body between his powerful jaws, wrapped his long dark cape around himself like a vampire, and proudly strutted across the threshold of the Great Hall and up to the stage. Passing his Mother the Queen, with her bony hands folded right beside her cheek, her thick lips curled high up into an equally proud grin and her round body swaying daintily, Prince Froglip turned to the crowds, took a deep bow with his long arms out holding the sides of his cloak, and with the dead hen still held in his mouth, he wrapped himself back up and exited stage left.

When the cheering from the Goblin audience had finally died down after a moment or two, all eyes eventually fell upon the poor sickly form that was their Goblin King.

Boggrat gave a deep gulp as he slowly looked up from the gathering shadow upon the cold rock ground in time to see the Queen ascending the steps of the Stage and coming straight towards him, her stone clogs clapping with the hard floor; the King's wife had on a nasty look upon her hippo-like face, her thick pink lips pursed together and her sunken-in eyes bitterly narrowed at him; with her hands on her big hips, she walked with a strut, allowing her whole form to slowly gyrate in a manner that could easily be mistaken as a sexual invitation.

And that's what happened to the Goblin King: it only took the old male a second to lose himself to his wife's buxomly figure, and his eyes fell upon her great breasts swaying back and forth. Realizing his foolishness, the King tried his best to look like he had gazed at something else, but it was too late:

"You have _some nerve_ laying your greedy eye upon my bosom when you should have kept it on your own men tonight, imbecile!" The Queen hissed, coming to a stop right in front of her husband and staring him down.

"P-p-p-pleasssse, mah, my dear! Have mercy! I only…"

_SLAP!_

"OUCH!"

The King was cut off by a sudden open-handed assault right to the left of his face, and the resulting laughter from the hundreds of Goblin Commoners surrounding him. Feeling the side his face stinging and bleeding from the cuts left from his wife's long claws, the King was then grabbed by the droopy pink ear and dragged back up the stage, all the while the Queen loudly scoffed:

"_Mercy?! HA!_ The _true_ Goblin knows no mercy! Only the weak and soft know mercy, you worm! _On your knees!"_

The King was thrown upon the intricately decorated golden stone flooring of the Stage of the Great Hall, the sheer might of his spouse's ability to lift both him and his two-ton stone crown wheel still amazed both him and all the rest of the Goblins there. Just as he was ordered, he stayed on his large hands and knobby knees, shaking as the Goblin Queen then proceeded to strip him of all his important symbols of his Royalty and Leadership status; she lifted off his large crown with on arm and threw it away to the side where it landed with a crush, shaking the ground; next, she tore off the King's thick blue cloak that was the very fur pelt of a bear the King had slain and tossed that off to the side as well; finally, after throwing away the Sack of Mystery which the King had stolen that night from the Sun-People, Hipposowlea roughly stole away Boggrat's staff and raised the thick stone end above her head with full intentions to smite her own husband.

"Do you even know what _else_ Goblins are supposed to lives for?! Huh?! Or have you forgotten that as well?! Shall I, _your wife_, teach you what your rotten parents have obviously forgotten to teach you, you bum?!"

The Goblin King was a stuttering and sniffling mess as he found himself almost stripped naked and held down on the floor by his neck by the Goblin Queen's powerful bony hand. Completely devoid of the few devices he could use to shield himself from his wife's wrath, he tried one last time to beg for his wellbeing.

"P-p-p-pleasssse, maahy dear! (*Cough! Wheeze!*) I'mmm ah-aha s-s-sorrrryyy!"

"'_Please', you say?_ As in, 'Please teach me, O' dear Queen of mine? Remind me of the Ways of the Goblin!' you say?" The Queen's voice was low and full of spiky sarcasm and threat, her gruesome fangs protruding out from under her thick pink lips like yellow daggers. "Veeeerrrry weeeellllllllllll, theeeennnn. Leeeet ussss bediiiinnnn…"

_WACK! WACK! WACK! WACK! WACK!_

"_AH-AH! OUCH! OW! OUCH!" _The Goblin King's deep voice cried out into the Great Hall amongst all sickening sounds of the thick rock slab of his own royal staff being applied to his frail, exposed body. The Goblin Queen did not hold back; she hit him in the ribs, head, stomach, and legs, while also keeping a stern hold of the thick wrinkles of his neck scruff and yelling in his ears:

"_The true Goblin knows only strife and survival! Brutality and bravery! Strength and speed! Sex and slavery! Power and might! And you have demonstrated __**none**__ of these!"_

With every heavy example she gave of what a "true Goblin" must be, the Queen gave a strong flick of her wrist and beat that staff right into the King's body, which had already began to bruise. [Goblins, of course, are by no means creatures of sensitive flesh due to their harsh habitats living underground; the Goblin King is an example of one who through continued ill health has acquired a far-less standard immune body then any normal healthy Goblin.] On one occasion, she struck him in the head, but no injury of any kind became of it, thanks to the Goblin's naturally thick skull sold like rock, but upon another, the Goblin Queen stuck her husband upon his left foot, which really sent the poor guy into a world of pain, due to it being the only source of real physical pain to the Goblin species.

Gasping for air, shaking and cowering in a purple and pale ball upon the open Stage floor, the Goblin King had had enough, he was done; his skinny arms and legs felt numb and lifeless, his ribs hurt when they stretched his skin as he took a breath, the only place on his body that was not painful or bruised was his head or course, although his droopy ears were red from being pulled on. But worst of all his pride as the King of the Goblins was once again shattered on behalf of the entire Court of Goblins… all because he was unable to make his wife and son happy…

At last, it would seem the Queen had finally tired of ruthlessly beating her mate, and so she threw away the King's staff like a mere stick and just stood there, with her hand to his hip and her face completely wrought with attitude. The thousands of Goblin witnesses beneath the Stage watched with mixed feelings a their King lay there, with his bruised back to them, like a freshly caught animal awaiting the final blow from the huntress. But it would never come, of course; as much as the Queen herself hated to admit, she still loved this sack of sneezing mucus, as pathetic as he may have been, and when they were the young heirs to the Goblin Kingdom, she still remembered all the impressive things he did for her in order to gain her love as well as prove his right as future King of the Goblins.

Laying upon that cold ground, wheezing and going dizzy from the pain and lack of air, the Goblin King was himself a mix of emotions: normally any other Goblin would wish death upon themselves out of personal guilt for failing their Queen or for an escape from this amount of terrible physical pain. But in the King's own mind, this pain was also very pleasant for him, it made the old Goblin realize that despite his sickness or his Kingship, someone in his personal life still cared enough to notice him and give him some attention, however negative it was. The King still very much loved his wife; no amount of beatings (like tonight's) and daily verbal berating could take away the Goblin King's love for his dear Queen.

Of course, neither the King nor the Queen would admit to such feelings for each other openly; the Queen did not want to possibly rick damaging her pride and credibility, and the King did not want to risk either of those himself, not risk having his physical form further damaged than it was now.

Feeling the crowds growing louder and impatient, the Goblin Queen barked at them to be quiet, and when they did, she reached down with a sigh and hoisted her half-naked husband up by the ears with just one strong arm. The King's skinny arms and legs just hung there, very sore just like the rest of him, and small streams of blood ran down from under his puffy pink nose. The Queen looked him over, at first with a stony frown, then it softened a bit as her remembrance of his contributions towards the existence of their son came to mind. That and her general energy level was running low.

"Well. I think I just about covered everything," the Queen spoke with a light tone, although she wore a sneer to save face, "at least everything that will fit into that pointy little noggin of yours. Hopefully this will help you remember that failure will not be tolerated or forgiven in this Kingdom. Do you understand?"

Gathering together the last ounces of strength still left in him, the Goblin King slowly nodded his head and muttered through a dry, weak voice, "…Y-yes. Yes, my dear."

"Hm. Good."

The Queen flung her scrawny husband over her shoulder like a human hunter carrying off a freshly caught game; the King wrapped his weak arms around the thick, wrinkly neck of his wife; the senile old Goblin was so desperate for affection, enough so to desire the it from the very woman who beat him into a pulp, but since the Queen's cold heart would not return his hug, the King had to settle with only his wife's body warmth and her great breasts pillowing his chest as his only comforts.

The Queen turned to the audience of the Great Hall, calling forward the specific members of the King's hunting group, who were all still visibly suffering the trauma of being under fire by the dreadful Prince Froglip.

She growled loudly at them, "I want all of you to take my husband's object back to our Royal Chambers to store them; then, you lot will soon be paying for tonight's misdeed against my son as well for your pathetic performance tonight! And as I can see that there are no females in your group, I can only speculate that my husband had made a grave error in judgment for not picking his fellow sieges more wisely." Then the Goblin Queen looked out unto the rest of the Goblin Kingdom and announced out loud, "For this, I will be taking out _my own_ hunting party, and I ask that any female Goblin within this Court who feels they have what it really takes to accompany me in my raids against the Sun-Creatures may feel free to sign up at the Goblin High Court house. I want only females, preferably those who are not currently pregnant, nursing, in less then stellar health or under the age of three. Ladies, let this be a challenge to this group of all males who have failed so miserably tonight, despite their clamors that they are the stronger! Since they have failed, let us who them who the real Goblins are! That it all. This court is dismissed."

And with that, the Goblin Queen turned and exited the Great Hall, stage left, with her beaten mate over her shoulder and trailed by Glump, Muk, and the rest of Group Failure, all carrying along all of the King's possessions, including the Sack of Mystery.


	4. Silence of the Dame

Cold shivering skin was finally rewarded with the heavenly hot waters which sprung forth in small harmless jetties within a tub-like crater, one of the many that lay within the confines of the Royal Palace where the Goblin King, Queen and Prince resided in privacy and fortitude. Among the many rooms of this mighty fortress of amazing architectural design which would surprise a Sun-Person was the maze of thin natural rock bridges high above the dark cave grounds which connected the Palace's towers, entrances and rooms. One of these many rooms was the royal Washroom of the King and Queen (the Prince had his own), where the Goblin King could be found in the deeper parts of the cave-rock quarters; the older Goblin sat in one of the aforementioned tube-like craters of lovely hot spring water, which was a commodity in the Goblin's underground world, though it was seldom you ever got one of these to yourself, unless you were Royalty.

The King rocked back and forth, his deep voice moaning with both pleasure and pain as the bubbling bath both soothed his aching muscles and stung his open soars and fresh bruises. He was still feeling the effects of the harsh beating he received by his lovely Queen upon the Constellation Stage right in front of all the Goblin Community just an hour ago; as the memories returned to him, a red blush momentarily covered the King's bony cheeks, which was no doubt noticed by the two servants who were washing the long, reddish-brown hair which grew out from the sides of his head. No one said anything of course, that would only make things worse; and besides, Goblins were not known for having a sympathetic nature…

It was an hour or so of the King's servants (7 of them) tending to his wounds, wringing out his hair tufts and picking the insides of his large pink ears clean of pesky fleas and mites. As two of the servants were preparing to help their older ruler out of the rock crater, the Goblin King spoke, his voice raspy,

"Slowly, I beg you. _Slowly_. I am not at all well… _Achoo!_ (Sorry.) Sit me over there in the wooden stall where my robe is at and just wrap me in a… ah… AKCHAH! S-sorry, sorry! Just wrap me in a wolf's pelt and be on your ways. I can handle myself from there."

And so without question, the Goblin servants carefully lifted their very sore King from the bubbling crater (with his long deer-skin pants still on, as was accustomed for Goblins to bathe in front of those who they were not married/sired to), and very carefully carried him to there were large plants of thick (stolen) wood panels fastened into three walls and a bench in the corner of the royal washroom. Situated in an area where a common cave spout emitted hot steam, this area was more then less the "steam room" of the King and Queen, a surprisingly advanced little setup to help them sweat out a days hard labor and parasites.

When the servant had left after setting their King upon the bench with a wolf's pelt for a towel around his thin waist and his thick regal blue-colored bear's pelt hanging from a hook right beside him. Over near the area as well lay his heavy stone wheel crown, his long staff, and the Sack of Mystery, which he had stolen from inside the Sun-Man's farm. King Boggrat was still very curious as to what was contained in that sack; he also wanted to know if whatever was in their would again cure his stuffy nose and sore body with just a few sniffs of it. But just as he was about to reach out and retrieve it, there was the sound of footsteps and the loud shifting of a stone door to the entrance of the washroom. The King looked up, ears up, to see who it was, and was surprised to see his son standing there.

The Prince Froglip looked tired and ready to go to bed, still wrapped with the tight little blue-green sash around his waist and thighs as well as wrapped up in his regal black cape that hung right at his bony ankles. The only difference to his usual look was the presence of bright red chicken blood all over his green muzzle.

Very startled, the King sat right up again as he watched Froglip walk right past him (greeting his father with a snotty look upon his doggie face) and stop at a particular stone shelf; there, Froglip retrieved what looked like a rabbit's skin rag, dyed a deep maroon like the inside of his cape. He dunked the rabbit skin rag into the hot water of one of the craters, knelt down at the tubs' edge and began to wash his own face clean (something that Froglip's father was a little surprised to see, usually his mother washed his face for him, like most doting mothers would).

"…E-evening, my son." The Goblin King spoke meekly, hoping he was not making a mistake.

Froglip finished wiping his face and, resting his elbows on his knees for support, gazed sleepily at his father, as if to say something but he could not think of nothing more then to run his long bony green fingers through his thick pink punkish hair.

"Evening, Ffathewr." Froglip spoke in a jaded tone, looking away.

"You look down, my son. I-I'm sorry about today, I really am! And I promise I'll make it up to you somehow. Why, I'm sure your Mother and I can take down a whole family of Sun-Creatures just for you. Why, the next Witches Sabbath is coming up, you know." The King gave a little smile in hopes of appeasing his son, but it did very little.

"Mothah's(pt) in a bad mood." Was all that Froglip said, still not giving his father eye contact.

The King looked away himself and sighed with dread. "… Y-yes, I am aware of that, my son. And her disgruntlement is surely all my doing. (*Sniffle*) She was right about the chicken though. Which by the way (*cough!*) how was the chicken, s-son?"

Froglip pondered before answering his father, "Well, it wasssppttt good, not great. But I thinkpppttt itttppp hadpppttt wormssspppttt or ppptttsssomethin'. Itttppp made me kind ofph ill. I ppphhheel drowsspptty righttpp now…"

"Oh, I see. Well then go right to bed, my son. You can sleep right into the next day if you please-ah-akchoo! Worms are nothing to a Goblin's system, especially such a stone-cold one such as yours, my good son." The King coincided, giving Froglip a friendly nod, "I've eaten plenty of bad game in my years, son, and through some instance they've made me a stronger Goblin (since they never ended up killing me, heh!), so get some sleep, and I'm sure by tomorrow your dear sweet mother will be in better spirits again. (*Cough! Cough!*) Go in Gorgo, my son." In a waving gesture of his large hand, the King dismissed his son to slumber.

Froglip stood up, wrapped himself up in his long black cape, and gave his father a typical Goblin grunt before bowing and leaving the Royal Washroom for his own bedroom.

The Goblin King took a moment to reflect, sitting back against the wall; while he was happy that he was able to somewhat curb his dear son's upset stomach and overall bad night, the old King was very surprised that Froglip had actually done something he was told to do! He (Boggrat) told his son to go to bed, and he (Froglip) did just that! Quite the opposite of how the Prince Froglip reacted earlier that night to his father telling him what to do, and that was the norm.

A goofy grin came over his face: _Somehow I wish my son acted like he was sick all the time, ha-ha! _He thought, but not at all with any seriousness.

After making a mental note to himself to commit a Sacrificial Ceremony to Erlking later in regards to asking for his son's good health back, the Goblin King took on the task of drying himself with a wolf's pelt left for him by the bench (tying it around his waist like a kilt), removing his pants and throwing back on his blue-colored bear pelt robe, limping a little as he did. He noticed that the servants had taken his stone wheel crown and staff with them and presumably dropped them off in the Royal Bedroom; now, normally this was a no-no in Goblin society, as only the Goblin King had the right to touch the Royal Items, but seeing as he was not having the best of nights, he allowed them to do so.

Leaving the Washroom and traveling across the elevated stone bridges that connected the Palace together, the King passed by several of the female servants that he knew served the Queen. Upon making eye contact with them, he was dealt with dread by the tired and fed-up looks on their faces; no doubt they were silently warning the King of his wife's ill-temper without words, so as to avoid them being heard by their Queen's acute hearing. Other servants on their way to the Royal Bedroom to see the Queen, would have to carefully pass by their King on the thin bridges; they would no doubt see his bruising and fresh cuts and make a mental note to themselves not to end up that way themselves at the clawed hands and stone shoes of their tyrannical Queen. The lesser aggressive Goblin King however paid no mind to their observations of his misfortune, for he was more concerned about not achieving even more of it from his wife as he made his way to their bedroom.

A few minutes had passed, as did many servants, slaves, and guards, who were on their ways to their respective places for the night; the Goblin King found himself alone within the deep moist tunnel of the Palace leading to the Royal Bedroom; while scurrying along, he was mentally trying to think up what on Earth he was going to say upon meeting his wife in bed.

One thing however was for damned sure: he wasn't getting sex that night.

The Goblin King came to a silent stop right outside the rounded entrance, which was decorated with a curtain of jingling pebbles threaded though thick threads (a pinch of his wife's personal taste in décor), which had been fastened to hooks in the top of the carved out rocky entrance. The King took a moment to take a breath, pulled his thick bear robe around himself for personal security (he felt very naked without his mighty stone crown and royal staff, with only a wolf's pelt around his waist), and silently sniffled up some clogging mucus before very meekly popping his head in through the curtain of beaded pebbles.

Across a long length of bedroom space, passed three very large, ceremonial glowing crystals in a dug-out section of the room, was the opposite wall of the room where the master bed stood; a collection of hard rocks made up the "mattress" of the bed, as well as the "pillows", the roof was held up by four thick totem poles baring the stone faces of differing Goblin deities, and out from the roof little trickles of river water sprinkled down around the bed like in a thin curtain of soothing sound to a Goblin's sensitive ears. The "backboards" of the bed were two triangular slabs cut from fool's gold, and thrown over the whole bed like icing on a cake was a thick insolating cover of the sewn together pelts of many different animals as well as the Queen's "plush collection" of even more animal pelts complete with their legs, tails and lifeless heads still attached.

And amongst this collection of Goblin taxonomy, lounging snug under the dark-brown covers with an old book of _Goblin Law of The 1300s_ in her clawed hands and thin glass spectacles perched on her thick nose was Hipposowlea, the Queen.

Upon hearing the jingling of the pebble beaded threads, the Goblin Queen's large pointed ears pricked forward and her pale yellow eyes left the pale yellow pages of her book momentarily to meet with those of her husband, who had the look of a poor, droopy-eared puppy dog as he peered nervously at his wife through the pebble curtains. For what seemed like a long moment they stared at each other, eye to eye; with time the King's grew more soft and worrisome, while the Queen's stoic expression on her face never changed, yet her gaze seemed to harbor an icy glare so cold as the winter nights…

After a while however, the Queen's eyes simply returned down to the parchment of her literature, her thick pink lips never uttering a single word. It was as though she had seen nothing at all.

The Goblin King gulped and bit at his keratin: now what? Was his wife still angry with him? Was she preparing to smite him as soon as he so set single-toed foot into their bedroom? Or was she simply bluffing just to frighten him like all Goblins so loved to do with their victims? So many questions flashed across his brain like tapeworm larvae as he began to sweat a little; the minutes dragged on the cold silence with the exception of the soft pedals of river water that fell around the nest of that lioness which occupied their bed calmly reading her book.

Finally the King Gathered up what little courage his half-naked and beat-up body could collect, and he cleared his voice as he spoke, "… E-evening, my dear."

Nothing; the Queen made not even an effort to give a response. She just kept reading her book, not looking up.

The Goblin King gulped again and spoke again as he slowly and carefully inched his way through the beaded pebbles and a few feet into the room: "… Ah… (*Sniff*)… it's a… nice evening tonight."

The King wanted to step on his own foot for saying such a cliché thing, but his wife's continued silence did the punishment for him. Then he began to cross the threshold of the Royal Bedroom, a brave move on his behalf, but his overwhelming desire to be with the love of his life was just too much for the King of the Goblins to avoid.

"…I… I see your reading one of the classics, my dear. How about those ah… (*Sniffle*)… those old fashioned Dragon-Riders huh? They sure were… something…"

But the silence itself was like the blood of a dragon: cold, with the possibility of igniting with just the wrong move. The Goblin King could feel himself beginning to fall apart inside as he made it to the side of the large rock bed, just a few feet from where his spouse sat, her eyes still avoiding him like The Plague.

The Goblin King uttered a series of soft grunts and squeaks, while he pawed at the bed, trying as hard as he could to gather her attention; still, she ignored him. Eventually his wife's cold shoulder was getting too much for him to bear:

Taking hold of her thick arm, tugging at her in his direction, the Goblin King pleaded hard with her to acknowledge him; the King of the Underground threw away what little pride and self dignity he ever had to become like the Queen's own child begging for her attention:

"_My love, please look at me! Please don't ignore me! (*Sniff!*) I can't stand your silence anymore then I can stand a Sun-Man's song! (*Sniffle!*) Please, let these old ears of mine gain witness to your lovely voice like the toad's croak, and the crow's caw, and the lioness's growl, and the dog's bark, and the sow's snort, and the bear's roar! Please, my dear, lend me your words! Talk to me! PLEASE!"_

Tears of torture began to stream down the chiseled stone face of the Goblin King As he saw that the Queen was still ignoring him, her cold heart was unmoving like a boulder, and her eyes like mountains. Soon, the King was a mess, a runny nose, crying, and so tormented at his lover's rejection that he suddenly threw himself upon of the bed in a fit of insanity, flung his long thin arms around the Queen's thick neck and buried his head into her great bosom, breaking out weeping loudly:

"_My love, speak to me! I know you can hear me! Why do you ignore me?! What do you want?! I will give you anything in the world for you to speak to me! I will give you the world itself if you just speak to me! I know this has everything to do with my failure today! But you must believe me, my love, I tried my hardest! Really I did! I know I shouldn't have turned away from my group so much, but I was… just… WHAAAH! DEAR, SPEAK TO ME-E-E-EEEEEE! PLE-E-E-E-EEEEASE! I CANNOT LIVE WITHOUT YOUR LOVELY SPOKEN WORDS! WHAHAHA-WHAHAHAHAHA!"_

The Goblin King's wailing carried on out the room and into the rest of the castle, where all the other Goblin guards, servants, and slaves were awakened with a fright but unsurprised to hear their leader's tormented cries. Sitting a few yards down the tunnels just beyond the beaded door of the Royal Bedroom, the attention of the King's top Guardsman was grabbed only by the tap of a spear upon his head. He turned to see another of his men looking rather worried,

"What is it?" The Guardsman asked the other big, brawny Goblin with the dark blue-grey skin.

"Sir, should we go in there and assist? I fear for our King!"

The Guardsman replied with a grumble, "What? And have our ears ripped off by his lover whom tortures him into such deep-throated wails? His Majesty has hired us for Military and Political support, Loom. But when it comes to the Domestic problems of the King and Queen, there is nothing you or I can do."

The other Goblin named Loom with the thick cheeks sat back with raised brows and a sigh. He coincided, "Ya', your probably right. And besides, I think I'm at a loss to argue with a Guardsman whom is also familiar with the Domestic lifestyle, ha."

The Guardsman gave Loom a harmless glare before looking back towards the direction of the King's cries, saying:

"Let it be known: all the King's pets and all the King's men cannot win the war of the roses."


	5. Dances with Goo

It only took a few minutes for the Queen's chest to become respectfully moistened by her husband's tears and watery nose, but it would seem even this was not enough to sway the Queen into speech. Surprisingly, it was her husband's crying which seemed to get to her; it reminded her of back when their dear son, Froglip, was first born: it was suddenly like both a nightmare and a dream, the nightmare of an agonizing labor and the dream of finally having the child she's always wanted. And as much as the Goblin Queen hated to admit it, she would not have her precious Froglip without this poor excuse of a King whom she herself was secretly in love with herself. So in a way, she owned him her leeway.

Finally, after all this trouble, the Goblin Queen lowered her book to her lap and sighed as she removed her glasses, placing them on her "nightstand" (a stack of flat rocks). And she spoke,

"Well, stupid, I hope your pitifully small head can stand to remember this little test, because I am only speaking to you again because I know it is something The Erlking would want from me as a wife. And furthermore, you being miserable enough to not function properly will not help neither I nor your son, whom you have so neglected tonight. So it is with both charity and payment for you're past support in giving this Kingdom and I our Prince that I'll forgive you for your shortfall tonight, you dunderhead. Now get off me!"

The Queen gave a kick of her stubby but very strong leg and more or less kicked her husband off of her. As the Goblin King fell to the floor on his knees in a sniffling and sobbing mess, the Queen reached down and yanked off his wolf's pelt towel he had wrapped around his waist and used it to wipe her chest and breasts clean of his tears and other moisture.

Standing to his feet with his hands now covering up his exposed naughty area, King Boggrat had rivers running from his eyes and nose as he stuttered,

"(*Cough, cough!* *Wheeze!*) Y-yes! Yes, my love! Oh, t-th-thank you, mah dear! A-and I-I-I-I w-w-will make th-this up! I-I will! (*Cough!*) Eh-eh-eh-ACHOO! (*Sniffle*) And I-I'll even-n-n, I'll e-e-even-n-n…!"

Suddenly, the Goblin Queen had reached a hand up, snatched off the long, iron horn that set upon her stone head, and stuck the sharp tip of it right into the King's left nostril. Save for some sniffling and shaking from being cold and naked, the King immediately fell silent out of both shock and fear at this action. The Queen waited another minute until she had her husband's full attention before she spoke, her eyes were like two burning hot yellow coals glowing in the dim light of their bedroom.

"Hear me out, fool: I am only being this lenient to you because I owe it to our son Froglip, for without him I could not live, and without you I could not have bore him. Tomorrow, while I am out with my hunting party, you're going to serve our son as though he has just assumed his role as the future King. Then maybe you will learn what it means to be a real King of the Goblins, for I have not a doubt in my mind that my dear sweet little Froglip will not fail at this. _Have I made myself clear?_"

With her last threatening sentence, the Queen pressed the sharp tip of her horn further into the King's nostril, which was already raw and sensitive from always sneezing and finger-rubbing. The Goblin King gave a squeak like a mouse and tried to hold back more tears as he nodded and spoke in his deep, cracking voice,

"(*Sniff!*) Y-yessss, mah dear! Y-yes, my love, I will do just that and only t-t-that!"

The Goblin Queen smiled a rather wicked grin across her thick, glossy pink lips.

"_Good."_

_Flick!_

"_OUCH!"_

With a spit-second jerk of her hand, the Queen ruthlessly sliced open the poor King's left nostril with an upward drag. The Goblin King cried out very loudly as he felt his wife's iron horn tip cut right through his big red nose; he immediately cupped his large hands around his face as the blood began to spurt from his wound and all over himself; the poor old King also forgot he was without his wolf-pelt towel, so he was left standing there, naked, bleeding and crying in front of his heartless cackling wife.

After a moment or two of absolute humiliation later, the Goblin King could be found back where he started from, curled up in a corner in the Royal Washroom, crying his eyes out. He was all alone, as he had ordered his servants and slaves to go away the moment his sharp ears heard them approaching with their concerns; no King ever wanted his servants and slaved to see him in such a cowering state, especially not a prideful Goblin such as he.

The trip back to the Royal Washroom was certainly no better: the few Goblins who were still up at this hour at night got a frightening glimpse at their Ruler bleeding profusely from his nose, rivers of tears from his eyes, and running down the rock bridges naked except for his royal bear-pelt robe in utter embarrassment and shame as the chilling sounds of the Queen's laughter followed him all the way like a pack of barking hell-hounds. It no less served as yet another warning of the level of cruelty their Queen was capable of: if ever there lived the perfect specimen of the Goblin species, she was it.

It was only in the sanctity of the Washroom that the Goblin King could find even a smidget of relief and privacy; the first thirty minutes was spent cleaning himself of his own blood and then applying a squirt of aloe-leaf sap to his cut-up nose before wrapping it up with a roll of soft cloth, which was kept stored along with a potted aloe plant in a stone cabinet. After taking care of his injured nostril, the King sat upon his folded up bear-pelt robe in the shadowed corner of a wood-blank stall, rocking back and forth in his spot as he tried to give himself time to calm down. This wasn't the first time his wife has stooped down to this kind of torment, but it hasn't been this bad in a long time.

The King looked around where he was sitting, trying desperately to find something he could use to take his mind off of this terrible night he was having; it was then that he noticed the Sack of Mystery laying just a few feet away from him, still looking full of its contents, which were still unknown…

Curiosity overflowed his stone-hard head as the Goblin King reached a long arm over and grabbed the sack, dragging it over to him and sat back against the cold cave wall, working on untying the tight knot that kept it closed. When it was undone, and the King took a moment to feel around the outside of the thick bag to see if anything alive was inside (such as a burrowing snake or stinging insect) as well as to try and guess what could possibly be in there. Finally, the moment of truth, to see what could be inside here that has the powers of curing the King's stuffy, runny nose, and what possible treasure the Sun-People could be keeping from the Goblins.

"Could this be full of hollow stones?" Inquired the Goblin King to himself out loud as he began to pull the top of the bag open, "Or could it be full of precious jewels that the Miners have found? Or foreign gold on its way to the Sun-King's castle? Ha-ha! We'll see what these Sun-Men are trying to hide from us!"

The King enthusiastically reached a large hand into the bag, feeling around it until he was able to grab a decent sized one of whatever he was grabbing, and pulled it out to view…

"ITS… It's… ah… (*Cough*)… Hmmm… what_ is _this?"

The Goblin King stared at the strange, bulbous object in his hand: it was round, firm but with a soft outer layer of green skin, and a top which sprouted into a rather pretty pink flower.

"A plant? A plant pod?" The King asked himself, staring at the object in his hand like it was some sort of alien organism.

Then he looked back down at the bag and discovered that it was full of these same round bulbs of vegetation. The King took another plant pod out of the bag, compared the two, then placed that one back into the bag and went back to studying the one he already had in his hand. When it came to scientific study, however, the King of the Goblins only succeeded in demonstrating that he unfortunately had the mental capacity of a chimpanzee: at first, the King just stared at it, then he scratched his head, he sniffed at it with his big red nose, licked it, tried bouncing it like a ball (no luck), scratched his head some more, and put it into his mouth and chewed on it to see if it was at all edible.

It was a little known fact that a Goblins jaw strength and bite-force were about ten times as strong as that of a Sun-Person, so it didn't take long for the plant pod's soft outer layer to suddenly burst inside the Goblin King's mouth like a Gusher's Fruit Snack, spilling a sweet-like-honey white nectar inside his mouth and down his throat with a big gulp. With his mouth full of sweet-tasting mysterious plant pod, it was hard for him to do much else except sit there and chew it up, swallowing a bit at a time (the plant thing was rather large in size, about that of a ripe orange), but it was very tasty; the Goblin King savored every bit.

Then something very strange began to happen…

The Goblin King gazed around the room, and there before him was a menagerie of so many pretty colors… blues, reds, violets, greens… all seeming to appear out from the walls of the Washroom; and the King's lanky body… it was suddenly so relaxed and soothed, his muscles no longer ached, his bruises no longer pained, his cuts no longer itched… it was so nice, but it was all happening so quickly…

Next came the dizziness, the room was spinning, but in a nice way… it was slow, easy… everything in the room seemed to melt into piles of goo and dance around, and all the pretty colors joined in… dancing…

Then came the gentle lights… glitter, gliding around in the air but never falling to the floor, just floating like the dust of pixies… and shining with gentle lights like diamonds and rubies and gold, eye candy… they joined with the colors and goo… dancing…

Deep within his brain, past his impenetrable skull, the Goblin King slipped into a state of complete joy and comfort… it was more like _stupidly happiness_… but it was like he had entered into a perfect world… a world with no Sun-People, no incompetent citizens, no disrespectful sons, and no abusive wives… no pain, no worries, no problems…

The Goblin King just sat there for what seemed like thirty minutes, staring off into space before a big, goofy grin came over his ugly Goblin mug; he struggled to his feet, hid the sack of other plant pod things under a wooden bench, and exited the Royal Washroom, still with that incredible grin on his face.

The Goblin King was in such a state of elation that he had forgotten his royal bear-pelt robe in the floor of the Washroom… and was now strolling across the better of the Goblin Kingdom's castle bridges… completely naked.

You could not imagine the reactions from every other Goblin that came across him on their own separate journeys across the bridges; some gasped, some turned around and ran, some darted to cover the eyes of their children, and some just simply stood there, staring. Their King however seemed completely unaware of what was going on, and simply continued on his merry way back to the Royal Bedroom where he would find his Queen still in bed with her book and wearing her spectacles, talking with one of her female servants.

Queen Hipposowlea and her servant, a tall green-skinned female Goblin with black hair that was housed down by a blue bandanna that matched her tattered dress, were just in the middle of a rather pleasant discussion regarding a highly successful Goblin heist of a Sun-forge that took place sometime in the 1300's, when in popped the King, right through the curtains of beaded pebbles with his long arms outstretched, speaking proudly,

"_My Queen! My Love, and my Lady! How I cannot live without you! Your very essence is like the honey to the bear, and the river to the sockeye, and the mountain to the ram, and the sky to the bat! My dear sweet Hipposowlea! Your presence is the air I must have to breathe, and the water I must drink! How I cannot live without your love!_"

Coming to a stop at the very base of the rock bed like an actor halting at the front of the stage after a great performance, the King held himself in his own arms and stared dreamy eyed at the very She-Goblin who five minutes ago had cut open his nose and humiliated him.

There was a long painful moment of silence that proved to be so uncomfortable that the Queen's servant took a few steps backwards until she had pressed herself against a wall, leaving the Queen alone to handle this unexpected situation. The Goblin Queen just sat there, wide-eyed and gawking, thoroughly confused and completely unaware of how to handle this; eventually however, she regained some of her dignity as Queen and managed to stutter out,

"… What… what in my name and in the name of all the Goblin Lords of the past are you doing, you idiot?!"

The King responded merrily, "My love, its such a lovely night to be in your presence! A She-Goblin such as yourself should not be reclining alone! Not when you've got the body of a Daughter of Erlking!" Upon raising his arms in the air in jubilee, the Goblin King fell right over backwards, hitting the ground with a smack, but laughing the entire time he was down! The King just lay there, naked on the floor and laughing right up at the heavens.

"… What is **wrong** with you?!" The Goblin Queen spat, gripping at her bed sheets with growing rage and embarrassment at how her husband was acting. _"Answer me, stupid! _ Have you gotten into our wine stash again?! … Because if you did, I will so… **Stop laughing! ** _Stop laughing__** this instant**__, or I'll rip open your __**other**__ nostril, you worthless dog!"_

By now, the Queen was raging mad, gritting her long, tusk-like yellow teeth like a hippo ready to jump out of that bed and attack; if there was one thing the arrogant-hearted Queen could not stand, it was her meager husband ignoring her. Finally, the King's laughter ceased so that he could catch his breath, but he never bothered to get up from the floor, he just lay there scratching his belly while his wife and the poor servant She-Goblin were forced to stare at his exposed unmentionables.

The Queen turned to her servant as ordered her to help the King to his feet; the servant did as she was told and went over, struggling but eventually forcing the King to stand up right, although his feet looked quite wobbly and unstable. The servant then looked to her Queen and said,

"My Queen, I'm pretty sure His Majesty isn't drunk; I can't smell any alcohol on him. Perhaps he is just tired, so much so that he has taken to sleepwalking; allow me to take him to the back room and help him dress himself for bed with you."

The Queen nodded in agreement, but as the servant was helping him away, the Goblin King struggled to walk and strolled right into a wall; this garnered a stare… then a few chuckles from the Goblin Queen as she watched from the comfort of her bed as her husband was led away to be taken care of.

A moment or two of yet more awkward silence followed before the Queen finally settled back down in bed with her book and her rectangular reading glasses. She sighed to herself,

"Perhaps I have gone too far this time. I must have beaten him into _insanity_, ha!"


	6. A Public Sun People Announcement

Midnight had come and gone upon the Surface world, where the Goblin's mortal enemies, the Sun-People, chose to spend their sleep hours helping out a Farmer friend in need: it was back at one of the evenly numbered family farms that lay scattered around the rocky wilderness hills overlooking the great valley within eyeshot of the Sun Kingdom castle, which rose from the gathering mists. The location now was back at the one farm that had been raided about two hours ago by the Goblins.

Voices of both Miners and Farmers alike called to one another sporadically in the cold night, keeping tabs on everyone who had volunteered to help the victimized farmer and his small family get back their animals, which the would-be-thieving Goblins had managed to send off in all directions of the pasture, but thankfully it was mostly fenced in. By now, folks from all directions had managed to catch most of the farm animals, notably the cow and the sow; as the farmer (who had suffered a badly bruised led from a fall down a short hill and now stood with a wrap and temporary cane) stood by his modest house in his pajamas and with a thankful smile, he had just send by two men and two women who were taking his large cow back to the barn stall where she belonged, and was also kindly directing one person at a time where to put the chickens. As the people passed by him in search of any other fugitive fowl in the dark, from the mists came a tall, strong man with red hair and the slightly worn outfit of a Miner; right beside the man was a young boy, about thirteen or fourteen, who also had red hair and similar clothing, but he wore a bandanna around his head and was carrying a chicken in his arms. As everyone else carried on with their tending's of the rest of the family, the red-haired man and the red-haired boy approached the Farmer, the man shaking his hand.

"Well, Joel, it seems the Goblins only managed to get away with just one of your hens." The Miner Man spoke as the Farmer Man nodded, "I understand this is a potentially big loss for anyone working a farm, but at least they didn't manage to steal them all."

"Oh yes indeed," said Farmer Joel kindly, "especially with winter approaching and all. By the way," (he looked down at the young boy holding his chicken) "I have to thank you and your good son for helping me out like this! I couldn't imagine trying to get my animals back by myself, with my wife worrying herself sick about me or our children being attacked by those cursed Goblins."

"No need to thank us, Joel," the Miner Man said with a laugh, "that is what neighbors do for each other; and besides, my son Curtie here and I were happy to help," (he placed a loving hand upon the head of the proud young boy standing beside him) "And my wife was just as eager; she is in the barn house with your wife tiding it up."

"Now if only we could get the Kingdom to help." The Miner's son, Curtie, then said with a laugh as his brown eyes met momentarily with the shadowed silluette of the great castle upon the hill beyond the mists.

The two adults laughed slightly as well, the father saying, "Now, don't you pay any mind to the business of the Castle, son; perhaps it's a good thing they choose not get involved with the affairs of us Commoners, or we might find ourselves trapped in a Feudal State."

"It sure is nice of you to think of little me as being worthy of the Kingdom's attention, Curtie," Smiled the older Farmer, leaning on his cane. "Although I do see where your father comes from; the Kings of the past have been hasty with their decisions regarding public affairs… why I recall the civil war that was started over the shipping trade under King Maximus III. That was long ago, back when I was a young lad…"

"True, very true," said Curtie's father, scratching his chin, "I remember learning about that in school… but wasn't it the result of a coup by the King's visor though?"

"Yes, yes it was: the King had been away on one of his common routes, and the Kingdom somehow just got out of hand…"

There was a moment or two of silent reflection by the two adults before Curtie broke it with good intentions,

"So um… where would you like me to put this hen, Mr. Joel?" The Miner boy held up the hen he still had in his possession.

"Oh! Right, ah just put her in the coop with the rest of them, it doesn't look like she's hurt, so I'm sure she'll be fine."

Curtie did just that, running into the barn and then returning a few moments later, this time with an entirely different question,

"Say, Mr. Joel, I noticed your pig has a bandage on her back leg; did she get hurt?"

"Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that: the same hill that I got myself injured on, my pig also hurt herself on: she was grazing the roots around the large trees just at the edge when the ground gave way due to it having rained a day ago. And so, poor miss piggy went a tumbling down that hill and landed on her trotter, poor girl. Good thing I decided not to breed her this year."

"Oh dear, I'm glad she's ok for now. Is she in a lot of pain?" Curtie asked.

"At first she was, but after my wife wrapped her leg up, I went into town to see in any of the traveling traders that came in on the ships were selling anything that could help ease the pain. That was when I came across these two fellows who were selling a whole cart of poppies! I bought a whole bag of them, since the fellows said the pain relief effects only last a few hours, but I'm sure glad I got them, because its done the trick. The pig hasn't complained since, and the poppies seem to be quickening her healing too, thank the Lord."

"Good to here, certainly, Joel" said Curtie's father, "I myself love being able to go down to the village and see what other crazy things those traders got selling, heh; always something different."

"So do I," Said Curtie with a smile, "I got my engraved wooden sword from one of the traders. But… can I ask you something?"

"Certainly, my boy! What is it?"

Curtie thought for a second, then he asked, "Sir… what is a _poppy_?"

Farmer Joel's hairy eyebrows raised and he gazed at Curtie's father as if he wasn't sure if he was allowed to answer the question; Curtie's father was surprised as well, but it quickly faded as he remembered what a curious young boy his son was, and so he gave a small wave of his large hand and a smile for Farmer Joel to go right ahead.

Shifting slightly, Farmer Joel answered, "Well lad, a poppy is the seed pod to a special kind of plant that grows in all different parts of the world. But what's special about this plant is that… ah, its seed pods hold a sticky white liquid that is sometimes sweet or bitter, and it takes away pain and… it, ah, makes you feel… funny…"

Farmer Joel was at a loss of words, not entirely sure how else to describe it without being too direct (he was never one to be direct with words), so he looked back to Curtie's father for some support.

Curtie's father gave a laugh as he put a comforting hand to the much older Farmer's shoulder, "Its ok, Joel, you did great. Now I'll handle this." He then turned to Curtie and spoke,

"Son, poppies are another name for _opium_."

"What's opium, father?" Curtie asked, wide-eyed with growing curiosity.

"Opium is a _narcotic_, son. It's a drug that comes from nature, and when you ingest it, it puts your body and mind into a different state; it leaves you feeling very relaxed, happy, and pain-free. It also makes you very sleepy."

"Wow… how do you know what it feels like or looks like?"

"There are manuscripts that describe them by doctors who have used them in medicine and by people who take it for either healing or spiritual purposes. But one thing those folks always keep in mind, though, is to use opium with great caution, son. Like all drugs that nature gives us, it is easy to become addicted to them, which is why we all must respect what nature gives to us, and use them only when we need them."

Curtie nodded, "I see. Thanks, father, and thanks, Mr. Joel. I'll definitely keep that in mind, I understand now."

"A pleasure son."

"So, can I get you two anything from the house? Some trader-bought coffee seeds perhaps?" Farmer Joel offered.

"That's kind of you, Joel, but I probably should be getting Curtie home, its awfully late and I'd hate to leave my house alone for too long."

"Oh believe me, I understand!" laughed Joel as he shook hands with Curtie and his father. "I'll be heading back into town later tomorrow; I have to pick up another whole bag of them poppies since it seems the Goblins also managed to steal that as well, (gosh-darn-it!)"

"Wow, that _is_ a shame, but in that case I'll be happy to join you. See you tomorrow then!" Curtie and his father began to head off to the end of the fenced-in land, where Curtie's mother and the Farmer's wife stood waiting for them.

As Curtie walked the length across the wide open field, he looked up to his brawny father and suddenly came to a realization,

"Father, since Mr. Joel's bag of 'poppies' wasn't in the barn, then that must mean that the Goblins must have taken it!"

"Well, yes, son. They must have. Why does this suddenly bother you?"

"Well, doesn't it seem like something to be worried about that the Goblins now have their greedy claws on some potentially dangerous drugs, father?"

Curtie's father pondered this for a moment, then smiled down to his son and said,

"It might be for **them**, but not for us, son."

As he and his father joined their mother on their way home, Curtie remained all the more troubled. There was just no telling with the Goblins…


	7. Good Will Hunting

Morning hit the King of the Goblins like a ton of rocks to the head… or more like his son's large fist impacting right into his nose.

"FATHPHAH! GET UPPFFTT! I DEMAND PPHHFFOOD! _NOW!"_

Froglip's voice shrieked like a buzzard into his father's large ears, and King Boggrat's eyes flew open to see his son Froglip sitting right over him in his and the Queen's bed, their son's eyes glaring right down at his poor father and his fist raised again in preparation for another assault. Froglip had his father's scrawny body locked in the vice-like grip of his long, powerful frog-like legs, while the twenty-something-year-old Prince had his large bat-like ears flattened somewhat under the flat surface of his father's giant stone crown which was sitting on top of his head.

His head dizzy and aching from the after effects of eating the strange whatever-the-hell-kind-a-plant-pod he did last night, as well as feeling the sores all over the rest of his body from the public beating from his wife, the Goblin King struggled to find his words as he uttered,

"A-ah, s-s-son! Uh, h-how are you this mor-mor-morning? And… uh… what are you doing with my crown on your head?" The King suddenly made note of his rightful piece of royalty on top of his son's head instead.

It was then that Froglip took up a prideful position upon the bed still sitting upon his father, but he placed a large, bony hand to his bare, muscular chest while using his other hand to steady the boulder crown upon his round head as he spoke,

"Fathphah, if(fpphh) you had any (ssspptt)sense of healthy recog(gpptt)nis(sshhpptt)sion like I (pptt)do, you would(pptt) remember pptthhat Mothah put me in ppttcharge of the Kingdom while (sshhpptt)she was(sshhpptt) away hunting today with(pptt) the oth(pphh)er girls. And now (pptt)that I am, (thpptt)this(sspptt) place(sspptt) is(sspptt) going to be diffffferent! (Pphh)progress(sspptt) (sspptt)shall be made! And that means(sspptt) you too! Now, get(ttpp) your lazzzzy self(pphh) up and get me (sspptt)some breakfasssstttt! I am 'da' King! And Mothah (sspptt)sayz' you haff' tah' lisspptten to me today!"

_WHOMP!_

"_AAOO!" _The King cried out loudly as he was suddenly hit right on the top of his head by his son's angry fist.

Gripping his head and rubbing his now bruised _and_ still heavily bandaged nose, the now apparently _dethroned_ Goblin King wiggled out from under his son and scurried out of the room like a frightened rat, just as his son broke out in laughing and began to throw his loud ugly barks at the poor servant Goblins and guards who were now gathering at the room. Had it not been for the persistent headache he was having, Boggrat's normally stone-hard Goblin skull would have prevented him for experiencing any sort of pain; luckily though his nose was not damaged any further as he examined it in the (slightly cracked) mirror in royal washroom moments later; delicately peeling off the old bandages off his left nostril, Boggrat cringed as he lightly fingered at the deep cut which penetrated through the skin like a knife-cut. Wiping his head clear of a gathering cold sweat, Boggrat took his time re-bandaging his bulbous nose as well as using his Buzzard Bones Brush to comb his long side-tufts of reddish-brown hair, removing a tick or two in the process. Of course, it wasn't like dolling himself up would make his situation any better in the eyes of his Goblin citizens: he himself has been overthrown today by his rash son, Prince Froglip, and no doubt the Use-To-Be-King Boggrat would today be reduced to nothing more then a Goblin wretch to his own son today… at least until his mother got home.

Dragging himself out of the washroom and down the castle steps in the direction of where the Great Dam once stood, Boggrat sighed deeply and wore a dejected look on his long ape-like face to go along with his usual blue bear-pelt robe, long-legged, brown deer-hide pants and his Royal rock-tied-to-a-stick Staff. He could not help but still feel naked without his great regal boulder crown sitting atop his head, but as was usual in his family situation, it could be worse…

"AH-HA! There iss(ttpp) my (pptt)sstaffff(pphh)! (Pphhtt)thank you very much, Fathah!" Froglip laughed and spoke arrogantly as he immediately swiped away his father's staff and raised it up in false triumph as his poor Goblin father was left standing below his son, looking longingly at his staff in his son's fist as though he had just lost a best friend. And if that wasn't enough, the newly-appointed-King Froglip then made it a point to steal away his father's thick blue robe right off his bare back and throwing it upon himself to further make it apparent that he was the "official" Goblin King.

"Here, (Sspptt)Scum! Fetch(ttpp) me (sspptt)some more worms(pptt)!" Froglip barked down at his father as he retrieved a stone bowl from one of the guards standing around him and threw it right at his father's chest, knocking the wind out of him. "I am a very hungry King, you know. And make (sspptt)sure they are_ live _worms(ssttpp)!"

As much as Boggrat wanted to even gather the courage to tell his son off for his behavior, (which he never could do in the first place), the old Goblin was at that point simply too tired, beaten-up, sore, and dizzy (mostly from eating the strange plant pod last night) to even try to think of a way of still making it out of this humiliating day with even a cent of what little dignity he ever had. Boggrat looked up at his tall, proud son, and could not help but feel a funny little bit of pride in his son Froglip's newfound status: it was his son after all, and it was Froglip's destiny to become the next King of the Goblins (albeit no one expected it to be this early).

Not forgetting, of course, that his son Froglip's reign would be over as soon as his mother got home that night.

Automatically excepting defeat and enslavement, Froglip's father took a bow and left for the castle yet again, crossing the many high stone bridges until he reached a spot in the living room where one of many stone couches sat, oft used by The Queen and Her Son, or just the King alone; sitting down and reaching up to pull out a large round stone from the carved out cave wall, and from the hole of the missing stone was a sudden flow of creeping and squirming insects, of many shapes, sizes and species; some simply fell to the floor while others took flight, but as soon as their compound eyes caught sight of the looming old Goblin in their mists, they all tried to flee back up the large hole in the wall and into smaller hole made by themselves as their only means of escaping the maw of a potentially hungry Goblin. All Goblins, of course, are natural pros at catching and snatching up tasty insects, and Boggrat was no exception to this as he delved his long bony fingers into the holes of just the worms and pulling them out with his sharp curved red claws.

As the _Former_ Goblin King filled his son's bowl with the slimy worms, he tried not to feel so down despite the more-awful-then-usual treatment by his wife and son:

_I suppose it's just their nerves… _He thought. _Winter is approaching us, and the harts have been moving around quite a bit, so it's been difficult for both my Lady and myself to hunt. And of course, the Sun-People have been more active at night as well in their own efforts to prepare for winter, which means it has become harder to make off with any of their things…_

Boggrat paused for a moment to allow a long series of loud sneezes to rake his frail body before continuing his task:

_But there cannot be too much worry now: my dear wife has gone hunting this time, and she has brought along her entire league of our top huntresses; if there is one Goblin who has never failed at bringing at least something more then just a chicken and a sack of plant pods home, it is my Queen! Like a lioness, she will persevere! Even if she does find another sack like mine to bring home along with it… and speaking of which…_

The old Goblin rubbed his chin with his fingers and looked down at the pants he was wearing today; they were long-legged and brown pelt material, just like his other pair, but this pair had pockets, and within one of those pockets was a big rounded lump; Boggrat reached in a pulled it out: it was a Poppy pod, which he had slipped into his pants from the large sack of them which was hidden away in the Royal Washroom.

Boggrat sat and stared at the plant pod in his hand; it was a smaller one then the first one he ate, and it was a bit firmer, perhaps due to a longer time needed for becoming ripe. It was all the more tasty, as Boggrat had not had the chance to eat any breakfast himself, but after last night's embarrassing performance right in front of the Queen after devouring a whole one of these, the old Goblin was wise to this plant's power.

Suddenly, the Former King heard the trampling of thick Goblin feet running up one of the stone staircases, so he quickly hid his poppy pod behind his back and looked over just in time to see the Goblins Muk and Glump appear before him. Panting and looking scared out of their wits, the two collapsed at the feet of their former King as the goat-faced Muk was the first to speak:

"Ah! Begging the Old King's pardon! But your Son, (pant-pant) The Former-Prince Froglip, has _chased_ us here! He-he demands his worms, your Highness!"

"(Pant-pant) Y-yeah!" Said the thicker, dog-faced Glump, "And the Former-Prince Froglip has already tried to st-stamp on our feet when we tried to offer him our snails instead! He-he has threatened to stamp _all _of our feet now, nyaa!"

Boggrat had a hard time speaking through his nervousness and his stuffed-up nose, but he knew this would happen eventually, knowing his son. He quickly handed over the bowl of squirming worms to Muk, saying, "Ah-aeh-heh, hear, just take them; Eya-I'm s-sure these will be enough to satisfy him for now."

As a very thankful Muk took the bowl, Glump then added, "But the Prince… er, I mean, the _King_ Froglip says he wants to see his Father back as well!"

Still keeping the green pod behind his back, Boggrat stammered, "Y-y-ye-e-es-s-s, very w-we-ell! T-tell him I will be there sh-sh-shortly, now be off!"

With a few waves of his hand, Boggrat sent the two Goblins off back to the underground fields, where Froglip no doubt was running a slave-drive.

Left alone once again, Boggrat could safely bring his pod back to his front, where he examined it again. This time around, though, his thoughts took a deviation:

_My son has asked for me. Which means I can now look forward to a whole day of nothing but abuse, all the while he carries my staff, wears my robe, and wears my crown…_

Boggrat slumped down into the stone couch, staring off for a moment with dread.

_... And all this because I couldn't bring dinner home. Dear Erlking! What must I do to make my Wife and Son happy with me? Wasn't it enough that I brought back something rather then nothing? A chicken and these plant pods… which make me wonder… what was that Sun-Man doing with these in his barn in the first place? What good would his work animals be in the fields if he was feeding them this stuff? He must have been eating them himself, or giving them to his Sun-Family, or something…_

Suddenly, the Former Goblin King had a rare spark of good thought.

_Wait! What if I gave these plant pods to my own family?! Why, these plant pods made me feel absolutely wonderful the first time I ate one, so maybe if I give them to my Wife and Son, it will put them in better moods! Which means they won't beat me up anymore! Yes! Yes!_

"**Yeah! That's it, yeah! ** Now I know how to ah-ah-AH-_CHOO!"_

One body-jarring, wall-shaking sneeze later: "(Sniff!) …Make my family _satisfied_. I now have something that will make my family _satisfied!_" King Boggrat said to himself, rubbing his nose above a smile. His plan was set.

But now he had to face reality again, but what better then with a little help from his little friend?

Hearing the angry yelling of his son, old Boggrat cut open an opening in the poppy, just big enough so that the white liquids would not escape it, and so Boggrat could just suck the intoxicating liquids from it a little at a time without becoming too drunken by it and without it spilling whilst he kept it in his pants.

And so that was how he carried on his day under the oppression of his own son, Froglip, who spared no chance to try and make his old father's life as miserable as possible; but of course, unbeknownced to "King" Froglip, his father Boggrat was in a state of physical numbness and a mental state of empty happiness, all the pain and aches of his life had been gradually lifted from his old body and mind and replaced with sweet tingling and a head full of air. Froglip's father was a different Goblin while under the influence of the plant (which Froglip was unaware that his father even had), and thus it soon became apparent to the young Prince that his father was acting quite strange when he so calmly accepted the harsh orders that had been given to him throughout the long hot day around the Underground Kingdom.

"(Sspp)Snorelan, come (ptt)to my (spsps)side." Froglip said, but not in his usual barking tone. This time he spoke in an undertone so that only his closest guards who stood around him could hear him.

The Goblin Guard who went by the title appeared to the young Prince, saying, "What be your wishes, Our Young King Froglip?" (He had a voice like a cat's claws scratching on tree bark.)

At first Froglip could not find the words to say as he stared, bug-eyed and perk-eared, at his old father many yards away gathering some water from one of the large rivers that ran though the Goblin Village, then he finally asked,

"Guard… have you notic(sspptt)ed my (ph)Fathah acting (sspptt)_strange_ today?"

After glancing over at the Goblin that was once his King, the Guard responded,

"Well, yes, my Lord… slightly. I see he has not sneezed even once since he has been down here working among the Servants (a good thing, we all can agree). But I have also seen him with a _smile_ plastered on his face! And there even seems to be a sort of 'care-free' skip step in his gait. My Lord Froglip, I know I am not one to make judgments, but I do fear that your Father, the Old King, has been _driven insane_ from his enslavement."

The more the Guard spoke his thoughts, the more alarmed Froglip became; his long bony fingers fidgeted with one-another while his large ears twitched, as did his eyelids. Froglip was none concerned about his Father's mental health, but it was the reaction of his Mother when she would come home to a vegetable for a husband is what the young Goblin Prince feared.

With his mother coming home in just a few hours (depending on how much game they managed to catch/steal), the Temporary King Froglip did the only thing his young, inexperienced mind could think of: he called his Guards to seize his Father, take him back up to the Great Castle, and lock him up in the Royal Bedroom until the Queen came back. And that is just what was done.

With his Father safely away to perhaps pull himself together, Froglip then continued on with the rest of his little rein of terror, slave-driving the common Goblins (including any females, pregnant or nursing, who the Queen left behind) and some of their Pets into polishing up the Great Hall, cleaning up the Prince's room (something his Mother could never get _him_ to do), sweeping the steps of the Castle, and fetching him more worms. All the while, Froglip rode upon the back of the great brute, Glump, who uttered no words of complaint (not out of fear, but more out of nonchalance, as he had always served as the unofficial "steed" of the real Goblin King for as long as anyone could remember).

At last, hours later just as the Common Goblins were beginning to wonder when their enslavements would ever end, their Queen came home:

_UUUURRRRBRRRREEEERRRR-BURRRR-BRRRREEEERRRRUUUURRRR!_ Went the all too familiar sound of the white-skinned, white-haired Trumpet-Goblin's trumpet, which he blew at the time of Royal business; his presence upon the high cave cliff overlooking everyone else, his loud trumpeting sending echoes down the endless corridors and caves of the Goblin's world was like a welcome breath of air to the village of Goblins all drowning in toils from the days rock-hard work.

Then came the small eruptions of celebrating roars and bellowing from their throats as the Goblins all dropped whatever they were doing and stampeded through the caves and spilling out like rivers into the main caverns until they made it to the Great Hall; there, they all formed two walls of bodies, both thick and limber, separated by a large walking space reserved for the convoy of proud huntresses and their Matriarch returning home, each individual female Goblin carrying some kind of large or small game animal, from stolen farm geese to wild-caught deer. The crowds of Working Goblins all gave praise, all eyeing the freshly caught animals with the hungry eyes of hyenas, while others asked each other, "Where is the King? And where is the Prince? They should not miss this great returning of the Queen, so successful!"

Indeed, though, Froglip was there, arriving by Glump-back just in time to spot a speck of bright vibrant pink making its way down the cleared path leading up to the Celestial Stage where the Royal Thrones and The Head of Erlking backdrop were located. Sitting as high up as he was, Froglip knew instantly that little pink speck was his Mother; a son could never mistake his mother, of course. As Froglip gazed out and oversaw all the excitement, he spoke rather calmly,

"Hm… Mothah's_spt _home early."

"Grrhhm?" Said Glump over all the noise. "You say your surprised your mum's 'ome early, Prince Froglip? Aeh. Your mum's got tah' be quite the stalker, that she is. And maybe today's just been ripe for pickin's, eh?"

"Could be." Froglip spoke lightly, rubbing his chin. Then he added, "Or maybe Mothah's_spt _just been average_gsspptt _today, and Fathah's_spt_ just_stpp_ **way** out_tpp_ of his_spptt_ league these_spt_ days_spptt_."

With that, Froglip hopped down (no pun intended) from the friendly Glump and shoved his way through the crowds of other Goblins to make his way to the Celestial Stage to meet up with his Mother.

Down the parade of Huntresses with their kills came the most anticipated one: the Goblin Queen, the familiar scraping and clanking of her stone clogs upon the hard floor announced to all her arrival home; wearing a big, arrogant smile upon her thick pink lips and hippo-like face, she carried upon her own back what could have been the most impressive-sized Grizzly bear anyone could have seen! From the call-outs from the insubordinate female Goblins in the march, they say the Queen took out the bear all by herself, no aid! But of course, knowing the power of their leaders for almost their whole lives, most of the Goblin community could clearly see this taking place.

And the Goblin Queen herself was most please, of course:

_Ha! I told him it would be this easy, I told everyone the same! My sweet slimy little Froggie will be so pleased when he sees what his Mummy has brought him, and when I get a hold of that deadbeat father of his I'll wring his neck!_

The Queen ascended the steps to the Stage and when turned around to face the crowd, she lifted up the enormous dead bear off her back and heaved it to the side like a ragdoll, much to the delightful cheering of the crowds.

"_QUIET!" _The Queen shouted, her tusk-like teeth snapping and her strong arms needed waved only once to quiet them. Then she spoke as her convoy of Goblins dropped off their bloody kills at the stage:

"_My children of darkness! Tonight, we eat like lions! Just as I have promised, I have brought back food, bounties of it. So now not only will my Son eat, but so will the rest of you; keep in mind however that winter is approaching us, so eat your stony hearts' desire, but store what you don't devour. _ Now, where is my dear son?"

Hipposowlea need not look for too long, for her son Froglip came bounding up the steps like a happy hound, all wrapped up in his back cape but still wearing his Father's boulder crown upon his head, and his Father's blue bear-pelt robe upon his back. Froglip had on a smile that stretched from one big ear to the other.

"Mothah! There you are!" Chirped Froglip as he submitted himself to his mother's inevitable embrace and sloppy kisses. "I have got ppttsso muchpptt pptto ppttell you: why, in _ttpp_just one _pptt_day, I have ins_sppttss_pired the entire Goblin communit_tppt_ty into _sss_sprucing up the place_pptt_! I even got_tpptt_ _ppt_them to mop up _ppt_the lower Castle levels_spptt_!"

"Wonderful to hear, my little slimy son!" The Queen praised. "And lo, here I see you have taken up your Father's royal garbs; does this mean my Son has decided he is ready for the throne, hmmmmm?"

"Well, why not_tpptt_, Mothah?" Froglip asked in an innocent sounding tone as he wiggled around like an actual frog trapped between his mother's voluminous breasts. "Am I not_tpptt_ the _ppp_prim and _ppp_proper _Pppp_rince that you _sspptts_so _sspptts_sacrificed yours_ss_self to raise _ppt_to be a King, Mothah?"

"Oh, of course I did, my gracious baby boy!" The Goblin Queen squealed as she reached up a bear's-blood stained hand to pinch her son's green cheek (which Froglip didn't seem to mind). "But as much as I would love to have you at the throne right beside me, my son, our ancestry and The Goblin Tradition would not approve, no more then they would approve of me killing that hapless fool, your Father, in order to give it to you. … And speaking of your Father, son, where _is_ he?"

Indeed, it suddenly occurred to the Goblin Queen that her husband was nowhere to be seen. Even more amazing, she never once heard his very familiar hurricane-force sneezes when she returned home. As Hipposowlea looked around the crowded Great Hall, genuinely concerned, Froglip shot a nervous glance at the one Guard in the Guardsmen lineup whom he had spoken to earlier that day regarding his Father's strange behavior. When he only got the same scared look back, Froglip's big ears perked back up when he so said to his mother,

"Ah, Mothah… Fathah is… ah, ILL! Yes_spptt_! He is_spptt pptt_jus_sss_t not_tpp_ feeling very well today, Mothah. I, uh, _ppt_**tried **to get_tpp_ him _ppt_to work, but_tpp_ he just_tpp_ kept_tpp_ _sss_sneezing everywhere! It was_spptt_ awful, Mummy. _Ssss_o… I jus_sss_t _pps_sent him to his_pptt_ room! Ha-ha! _Ppt_that is where you will find him, Mothah; no need _ppt_to worry yours_sss_elf over him, and no need to bring him into any _ssss_ort of importance, Mothah! You and I and all the Goblins_sss _will eat well tonight_tpp_ and for many nights_sss_, thanks_sss_ to you, Mothah."

Froglip planted a slimy kiss in the middle of his mother's forehead, and gave a goofy grin as his mother chuckled and said,

"Ah, very well then. I only worried for a second on his behalf because, Erlking-forbid, I should have to run this place by myself… though at least I will have you, my little carnivorous king! Now lets you and I feast together up in the castle with this bear I have caught and killed with only my claws and let the rest of the Goblin Kingdom work themselves out."

The Queen spoke clear enough so that the entire Great Hall suddenly erupted into a bloodbath of Goblins grabbing at the animal's carcasses and ripping them apart as they all filled each other's bellies with their meat and tendons. And with that, the Goblin Queen took up the great dead grizzly and, with her beloved son held close to her side, Mother and Son strolled away into darkness.


End file.
